Secret Window, Secret Love
by ginadepp101
Summary: Some time has passed since the mysterious death of his ex-wife. Mort's moved on and hes having a lot of sex. A powerful love story of Mort's life after Amy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I dont own Secret Window, I'm just another Johnny fan. I can take credit for all the non- Secret Window characters and the plot.

A/N: Hey this is my first time posting a fanfiction. I wrote this _forever _ago. And still working on it. I'm a few chapters ahead so if anyone wants i'll post them. I hope you enjoy it and dont be afraid to give me constructive criticism . . . I would appreciate it.

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Chapter 1

Another Friday morning had begun along with the usual coffee run to the local Starbucks. About a few miles away from his small cabin in the woods in New London, which he started going after his wife's disappearance a year ago.

He walked down the street trembling from the cold. _Summer must be over_, he thought as he walked faster with the wind brushing against his face. He reached the end of the sidewalk then turned left looking both ways before he crossed the street.

He stepped onto the other sidewalk on the corner. The door to the small coffee shop was held opened by a man in a brown suit. Under it he wore a red shirt and a black tie that said father of the year. He looked about fifty; Mort could see the aging lines around his eyes. He was holding a cup of coffee in his hands from Starbucks and a bag under his arm.

Mort watched as a women walked out thanking the man for his hospitality. She came towards Mort taking a sip of her coffee, almost running into him. The women looked up then passed him giving him a quick glimpse of a smile. Mort came to the door to notice the man was still holding the door open. He nodded a thank you to him then entered.

It wasn't too busy inside. There were about two people in line and four sitting down at the tables. One person was typing on their laptop set up on the table. Someone else was reading the Washington Post while sipping his coffee. There was a woman sitting in the middle tables tutoring a young girl and another woman in the corner chatting on her cell phone. Mort turned his attention towards the counter.

There was a tall man in front who stood about three inches taller then Mort. He had a backwards cap with jeans on that hung below his butt with only his leather jacket to cover his underwear. His hair was short and messy with an oily texture. Mort glanced over at the petite woman who was behind the counter with her brunet hair tied up in a pony tail serving the tall man. The tall man was holding up his coffee cup waving it in the air.

"This is not non-fat--I asked for non-fat!" he shouted

"I'm sorry sir, I'll get you another one." she replied calmly. But he wasn't calm. He set the cup down on the counter furiously making the lid pop open letting some of the coffee spill out all over the counter. The women behind the counter took the cup and tossed it into the wastebasket then turned her back towards the espresso machine.

This time she made sure she had gotten him non-fat. When she turned around she held out the cup in front of her. He grabbed it out of her hand putting it up to his lips taking a sip. The look of satisfaction filled his face.

"Have a nice day." she said kindly as he quickly turned around. He came towards Mort with great speed he didn't have time to move out of the way. Luckily none of his coffee fell from his grip, but he hit Mort with is elbow in his side pretty good.

The tall man groaned walking around Mort as he said "watch it", and walked out forcing the door to slam. Mort made his way to the counter holding his side. The women looked up at him with sorrow in her eyes. Her big brown eyes met with his.

"I'm so sorry Mort, that guy was such an asshole." she said comforting him with her British accent. As she always did. She was a very caring and sincere person, but a bit nosy. Nina was in her early twenties with a flirty look to her. She always had a smile on her face that lite up the room. Mort knew she was the reason most people wanted to come to Starbucks besides the coffee. She always wore a skirt to work to show off her tanning salon legs.

"Its okay, Nina." Mort replied taking his hand off his side feeling less in pain as time healed it.

"The people that come into this place." she sighed removing the cup from under the machine back over to the counter.

"The worst." Mort agreed.

"So how was your weekend?" she asked.

"Oh it was good." he said as he ran his fingers though his hair. "Christine and I we're considering moving in together."

"Really, congratulations." she said with a smile, showing her glimmering white teeth.

"Thanks. It's not definite yet." Mort sighed.

"It's the thought that counts." Nina said wiping the counter down with a rag. Yes it was the thought that counted because he needed all the support he could get. But he was excited about moving in with Christine. Having comfort from another human being could bring likeness to a home, waking up to someone with a bright loving smile every morning, someone to spend the rest of your life with. Just some of the things Mort missed in the past year and a half.

"You want to meet for lunch?" Mort asked.

"Cant, working overtime today. I have to put in some more hours to pay the rent."

"Jess not paying his rent again?"

"Moved out." she sighed.

"I'm sorry." Of course he wasn't. Jess was Nina's boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend. They lived together for a while. He wasn't the nicest guy in world or the wisest. Mort met him on several occasions. Each time, Jess always ended up leaving the room in a jealous rage. He smoked, drank, and didn't put the toilet seat down. Jess and Mort weren't buddy-buddy, but Mort knew he loved Nina. _Who wouldn't_, Mort thought to himself.

"So what will it be today?" she asked after a moment passed.

"Oh just the usual." he replied.

"Tall Café Latte double strong, with vanilla cream" she announced.

"It's amazing you can remember all that." Mort said reaching for his wallet from his back pocket. Nina turned her back to Mort as she poured the freshly hot coffee into the cup from the espresso machine into a 12 fluid ounce cup. Mort noticed she put in extra vanilla cream then turned back to the counter.

"There you go." she said handing Mort his drink. Mort exchanged his five dollar bill for the cup.

"Keep the change." Mort said taking a sip of the espresso.

"You're too kind." Nina said leaning over the counter to give Mort a quickly peck on the cheek.

"Thanks for the kiss. How about on this side." he said tapping his finger on the opposite cheek. "I think it's lonely." Nina bit her lip lightly then leaned over the counter again to kiss Mort's cheek.

"I hope that helped." Nina said.

"Never better." Mort said with a smile.

"I'll see you later, Mort."

"Goodbye." Mort waved goodbye then walked out into the cold. It was only seventy degrees out but the wind made it seem colder. He walked around the corner to CVS to pick up a few things. Toilet paper, milk, and some more Doritos. He bought his groceries that added up to eighteen ninety-nine. He paid with a twenty then walked the several blocks back to his car waving again to Nina as he passed Starbucks.

When he arrived back to his cabin he pulled into his driveway to hear a loud banging noise coming from the inside of his house. Mort paused. Mort quickly jumped out of his car and onto his feet shutting the car door behind him. Then he started his way to the porch. As he got closer he realized the noise was coming from the second floor.

He took another step. The noise began to sound more like a hammer on a nail. _Its a burglar_, he thought, _in my room--someone has broken in_. His heart began to beat faster. He found himself running to his door. It was unlocked. He set his hand on the door knob swiftly. After setting his groceries down the floor he turned the knob slowly. He peeked open the door carefully so not to make a sound.

From inside he only saw the small part of the wall at which his mirror over the mantelpiece reflected upon. He tried to see which room it was coming from. Just to be sure Mort used to mirror to looking into the kitchen. Yet nothing was there. The raucous seemed to be gone. Mort creped in towards the stairs. Across the hall the bathroom door was open showing no one in sight.

He took a step up the stairs. Then another and another. Soon he was almost to the top. He lay his foot in the middle step as it made a breaking sound as if he stepped on a piece of glass. Mort cringed then took the last step on the stairs. Finally he had made it. But his terrier wasn't over yet.

The banged became too overwhelming to hear what was causing it. Yet he could see the shadow of a man peering out from the next room. The bedroom. Mort stood there with great fear of his belongings. It seemed like forever he was standing there but only must have been two minutes. Mort didn't move. Maybe it was shock, either way it was the last thing on his mind. Until he noticed the man in his bedroom was singing. He seemed less of a threat. But still, what if he were armed?

With the need to protect himself Mort glanced around for something to grab. Then suddenly he spotted a yellow toolbox on the floor near his desk. A screw driving seemed like a good idea to have in his possession under the circumstances.

He couldn't get the door opened without it squeaking. But the man started hammering again which took Mort's focus off the door and onto the toolbox. Mort rushed in behind the desk. The toolbox now seat by his side. He held the screwdriver in his hand after opening the toolbox.

The banging of the hammer never stopped. Mort felt more confidence in his legs as he began to stand up. He walked slowly toward the bedroom door, his heart pounding in his head. He clenched the screwdriver tightly as his palm began to sweat. The bedroom door stood opened and Mort came face to face with the shadow. Then he leaned over to see the man in the bedroom hammering away on what looked like Mort's closet.

This was his chance. Mort had to make a move. He wiped his moist palm on the side of his pants. After a moment of building up confidence he counted the three in his head. Like a flash of light Mort jumped into the room. He landed behind the man hammer away at his closet.

"Hey asshole!" Mort said fiercely holding his weapon out in front of him. The man also jumped from the sudden surprise. He turned around holding his hands up to the side of his head, letting the hammer fell to the floor. As Mort thought the man was no threat after all.

"Jason?" Mort said surprised.

"Hey Mort." Jason replied gulping his throat. Mort let down the screwdriver to his side.

"You scared the shit out of me." Mort said laughing hysterically. But Jason didn't seem to find the situation as amusing. "What were you doing in my closet?" Mort asked. "If you wanted to see my drag queen outfits, all you had to do was ask."

Jason paused. He waited for Mort to stop laughing before he spoke. "Well that's very kind of you Mort, but I was thinking that maybe you could use a bigger closet now that there is about to be two people living here."

"Wow that's very thoughtful of you to break into my house to hammer into my wall." Mort said as he walked into the hall.

"You know your gonna thank me one day!" Jason called from the bedroom. Mort didn't respond. He placed the screwdriver back into the yellow toolbox. He walked back to the front door to get his groceries from where he had left them on the floor. Mort put the Charmin Ultra under the sink in the bathroom, the milk in the refrigerator, and the Doritos in his drawer of the desk where his laptop sat. Then the raucous sound started up again.

"Jason!" Mort called. Jason quickly came running out of the bedroom. His eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead as if he were waiting for something to knock him on the head. Mort could see his tongue inside his mouth from how wide Jason's mouth was open.

"Can you maybe do that at a reasonable hour? I haven't even finished my coffee yet."

"Oh, sure thing. Do you mind if I keep my tools here?"

Mort sighed. "Okay." Then started his way down the stairs to the couch in the living room.

"Thanks." Jason placed his hammer in the yellow toolbox.

* * *

Later that day Mort leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. He took another sip of his coffee then set it down on the table beside him. Then Mort heard a something coming from the kitchen. It was the sound of a loud squirting noise of water hitting a metal object. He opened his eyes lifting his head up to see Jason walking out of the kitchen with none other then a tin can. As he walked close Mort noticed it was a can of beer. Mort's eyes widened. He never bought any beer.

"You know Jason, Christine was the one I was expecting to move in with me." Mort said sitting up on the couch.

"Oh come on Morty, you now how I like my beer cold and in the middle of the afternoon." Jason said taking a seat on the chair across from Mort.

"Whatever, I'm going to go change." he said getting up and heading upstairs. "Use a coaster!" he shouted from the top of the stairs. Mort entered his bedroom and walked over to the dresser. He opened his drawer to see there was only one shirt that lay in it. "Where the heck have all my shirts been going?"

_Shirts don't just get up and walk away do they? _Mort sighed and took out the first shirt he saw which was just a navy blue long sleeve sweater. He took off the old shirt and tossed it onto the bed then pulled the navy blue shirt over his naked back. Mort walked back downstairs to see that Jason had a coaster under his beer.

They sat in silence for a few minutes then Jason said, "Don't you have somewhere to be . . . out with that British hottie or something?" Jason said referring to the afternoon lunches they have daily.

"Her name is Nina and no she has to work."

"Yea. Well she's hot." Jason said. Mort rolled his eyes. Jason was that sort of guy. The kind you think want to just talk, but really have other intentions. Mort had known Jason since college who recently moved to Tashmore Lake after coming out of his own divorce. In that time . . . he never changed. "Well I guess I'll get started on that closet and then I thought maybe your shower could use some replastering."

"In that case I think I'll go out . . . maybe give Christine a call."

"Is she single?" Jason asked.

"Who?" Mort replied.

"Nina, she available?"

"Not for you." Mort got up heading toward the phone.

"Come on Morty, hook me up." Jason said. Mort dialed Christine's number. The phone began to ring as Mort held the phone up to his ears. Jason mouthed the words hook me up again. "No." Mort whispered. Then someone picked up.

"Hello?" a voice said.

"Christine, its Mort." Mort said.

"Oh hey what's up?" Christine said.

"Oh, nothing just thought maybe you'd want to go to a early dinner maybe catch a movie, whatcha say?"

"I say wow, but I can't." She heard Mort sigh on the other end. "It's just that I'm swamped with work, remember I'm working late tonight" There was a slight pause. Mort had forgotten Christine had just been promoted. With that promotion she has to put in more hours.

". . . well I have to go. Talk to you later."

"Bye." he said.

"Love you, Bye." she said then hung up. Mort put the phone back down in its holder on the counter. Jason wasn't in the room anymore. He had already brought his tools into the bedroom. Mort quickly got on his coat and walked out the door. He didn't like Jason alone in his house, but who was Mot to refuse a chance to get a professional decorator for free.

Mort decided to go see a movie even though the nearest theater wasn't in Tashmore. Mort came out of his house holding out his car keys to unlock his car. He climbed into his new Lexus IS and started the car. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Then switched to drive and drove out of Tashmore passing all the people while they went on with their business.

People who he once greeted when he went into the town to buy simple everyday things in which he wasn't even allow to step foot near to get. Ever since the disappearance of his wife and her ex-boyfriend they didn't want him there anymore. He drove to New London and took a left at the stop sign the opposite way from Starbucks.

He arrived at the movie theater about a half hour later. It was five passed five. He stopped in front of the theater too look at the movies that were playing. There was only Annapolis at 4:05, Mort wasn't much into war movies plus the movie had already started. Underworld: Evolution, The Pink Panther, Hoodwinked, Final Destination 3, and Big Momma's House 2 had all already started which he had no interest in seeing. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Last Holiday, Curious George, and Firewall were all starting at six-thirty and later.

Mort sighed. For a moment he thought of forgetting about the movie. But there was one more movie, When a Stranger Calls. It was playing in five minutes so Mort didn't have to wait long to see it. It crossed his mind to go see it.

Mort drove around the parking lot to find a parking place. After parking he decided to go see the movie. The movie was only about an hour and a half long and he had nothing else to do. Plus he had a urge to go to the theater.

He walked up to the glass toll booth where a short bald man sat. He wore a sweater vest with a blue jean shirt underneath. He immediately greeted Mort with a smile. "One for When a Stranger Calls." Mort told the ticket man.

"One adult." the bald man replied.

"How much?" Mort asked.

"Its six dollars today."

"Wow. I got here at a good time."

"Right you are sir. Movies before seven are six dollars any later then that is eight."

"I guess you got to get here earlier to see it again then." Mort said as he handed him a ten dollar bill. The bald man took the money, placed it in the crash register under the counter, and handed Mort the movie ticket along with his change.

"Enjoy the show, sir." the bald man said though his microphone. Mort nodded to him then walked in. Inside Mort handed his ticket to the ticket taker. She tore off one side of the ticket then handed his ticket back.

"Enjoy the show." she said with a smile. Mort kindly returned the smile and walked on. He passed theaters one on the left and two on the right before you get to the food counters. The theater smelt of popcorn and chilly dogs.

People lined up to get the freshly buttered popcorn, large soda drinks, and candy. Bright lights shinned from the ceiling. The light bulbs were lined up in rows of a hundred or so beaming down into your eyes. There wasn't more then twenty people at the theater.

_I came here on a good night its not busy at all_, Mort thought. Mort glanced at his ticket to see that his show was playing in theater eight. He walked across the open lobby toward the snack machines where the hall way parted. The theaters three, four, and five were on the left. Mort turned to the right where theaters six, seven, and eight were. The hallway went on after that but Mort stopped at theater eight.

He put his ticket back into his pocket leaving himself to forget about it. Then he walked into the darkness of the theater. The previews had already started giving him some light to find a place to sit. He found the eight-five rows were all empty. Mort walked down the isle with the little red lights guiding his way down. Then he turned to sit in the middle row in front of the screen. He found a seat in the isle to sit in and took it.

Mort sighed then made himself comfy and crossed his legs. He continued to sit in that position though the beginning of the movie. He watched as Jill Johnson played by Camilla Belle arrive at the mansion for her job to baby-sit. The kids were already asleep so it started out with her excited for being in such a luxurious house. The house took place over looking a lake which surrounded half of the house that complemented the extravagant and beautiful setting.

The first phone call by the stranger was just that kind of heavy breathing without dialog. Of course its everyone's fear to have a stranger call repeatedly especially if you happen to be alone and a teenage girl. It wasn't boring, but pointless due to the fact that it's a remake of the 1979 version so you already know what's going to happen.

In every thriller when they suspect someone it's never going to be them. Mort calculated all the possibilities of who could be calling and found that it could just be a stranger. Not to mention in opening scene there a incident similar to Jill Johnsons, in another place. So it couldn't be the owners of the house happening to be really sick people.

Later in the movie Jill thought someone was in the house after calling the police she grabbed a fire poker. Somehow Mort found himself getting into the movie. Mort leaned forward in his seat. He figured there was no one there to witness him scream if he got scared so he could let loose a little. So he did.

He watched her walk slowly around the house to build up the suspense. She got to the kitchen and took a deep breathe. Then she jumped in front of the camera with the fire poker out in front of her. There was no one else there. Mort leaned back in his seat laughing. Jill then took a popsicle out of the freezer. She walked into the living room opening it and grabbing a napkin as she did.

Over Mort's laughing he thought he heard another voice. A laugh. Mort put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. From a distance he could hear a low girlish laugh. She didn't have an annoying laugh, but a low simple one. It turned into a sweet melody to Mort's ears like a song that couples play at their wedding for their first dance.

He glanced around the theater for the person that matched the voice. Then through a flash of light he could see her. She was sitting five rows behind him. For a moment it was silent. Her eyes were fixed on the screen. He could see the light from the screen shimmer off of her hair.

Suddenly she looked at Mort. He gulped his throat. As if in slow motion she lifted up her finger and made a come-hither gesture. In reaction Mort pointed to himself in the chest and mouthed the word _me__?_

To his surprise she nodded. Mort's next move was to stand up, but he found he was already standing. He walked onto the isle as they kept eye contact. He walked slowly toward her. Mort's heart was racing as he stopped at her row. She sat in the middle seats with a small bag of popcorn in her hands. Before he knew it he was already standing over her. She smiled at him.

"Hello." Mort said.

"Hello." she said in a Hispanic accent. She was smiling. Mort smiled back at her trying to not look too nervous.

"Do I know you?" He asked.

"I don't think so, do I know you?" she replied.

Mort shook his head no. He didn't think he knew her. "Why are you smiling?" Mort asked.

"I don't know . . . why you smiling?" she replied. For a moment he looked down at his feet. He didn't know why he was smiling or that he was.

"I don't know." Mort said shaking his head no.

"Please . . . sit." she suggested. Mort took a seat in the seat beside her. Immediately he caught a smell of her aroma. Either she just bathed in some wine or that was her perfume. She ate a bit of popcorn chewing it with her mouth opened like a piece of gum, but no sound. "I've noticed that you were down there." she said.

"Yea, I didn't see you up here until I heard you laugh."

"I was getting some popcorn, even though the movie had already started when I came in. That's one thing about the movies; you always have to get popcorn."

"And the laughing part?" Mort asked.

"It was funny, you were laughing too." she said. Mort began to stand up. "I like that." she said. Mort sat back in the seat.

"What?" he asked.

"That I'm not only one who went alone to see a movie on a Friday night."

"So why did you come out alone on a Friday night, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I wanted to come to the movies. Haven't you ever had the urge just to get out of the house and go to the theaters?"

"Yes I have, in fact that is why I'm here too." Mort said.

"I'm Marta." she said holding her hand out.

"Mort." he replied taking her hand and shaking it firmly. Her hands were soft and warm.

"Oh, your hands are cold." she said removing her hand from his. She turned her attention back to the movie. They both continued to laugh at the movie at parts they both found to be funny. Then Jill was walking down another long hallway very slowly to build up the suspense Marta turned to Mort.

"I bet you five dollars the stranger is not going to be there."

"You're on." Mort replied. They both turned to screen to watch Jill go into the laundry room to answer a ringing cell phone. She opened the purse that sat on the ground. No one was on the other line when she picked up. She got up off the flour and there was a shadow behind her that appeared to be a person. Marta and Mort jumped in their seats. Marta hoping that wasn't him and Mort hoping it was. But it turned out just to be a black suit hanging on the wall.

"I didn't see that one coming." Mort said handing her five dollars.

"Keep it . . . we didn't shake on it." Marta said. Mort smiled at her then put his money away. They continued to watch the movie now while Jill was in panic.

"Popcorn?" Marta said leaning her popcorn over to Mort as she chew on a piece without taking her eyes off the screen.

"No thanks." he replied. Marta then glanced at him. Their eyes met again. For a moment they sat silent. Two seconds seemed like forever. Mort felt in the moment to put his arm around her. He didn't. Marta pulled back her popcorn and continued to eat it one bite at a time.

"I bet you it's the son in college who lives in the guest house." Mort said after a few minutes.

"You're on." Marta replied. Mort was wrong again. It wasn't the son from college after Jill ran though the rain to the guest house, he wasn't there. They found out that the stalker was calling from inside the house and it was someone that no one had expected, but apparently he had been harassing and killing sixteen-year-old girls. He came out trying to of course to kill Jill, but she would get away from him every time.

Throughout the move they both seemed to have an reaction. Each time the stalker would jump from the darkness they both turned to smile toward each other. Once and awhile Marta would jump from her seat while Mort was calmer. Mort mostly feared for the innocent kids who were asleep the whole movie until the end.

When he looked up at Marta he felt a warm feeling in his heart like that feeling that you get when you just made a new friend. He found he was watching her more then he watched the movie. The movie quickly came to a end. The lights flashed on leaving Mort in a daze.

"Its over." Marta sighed. Mort blinked a few times for his eyes to get used to the light again. The credits played as they both stood up. Mort regained his eye sight following Marta to the isle. "I liked it." Marta said as they walked side by side toward the exit.

"Yea . . . it was good." Mort agreed.

"I think it was the way they kept the suspense."

"Yea, definitely I never saw anything coming."

"In other words it was the most boring movie you've ever seen." Marta said dumping her half eaten popcorn bag into the trash.

"I wouldn't say the most boring . . . in the top ten." Mort joked.

The custodians said goodbye to Mort and Marta as they exited the theater. The four of them stood holding their mops and brooms. They wore a red vest and black pants and top for their uniforms. They all had friendly faces, but only the girl which only stood about five-four, smiled. Mort glanced down at her as she said "have a good evening."

But it wasn't until he glanced up at Marta he almost fell from the weakness in his knees. He found she was even more beautiful in the light. Her walk was graceful and the curves of her body were ever so perfect. Mort followed her down the hall like a puppy-dog. Marta turned the first half of her body around to face Mort showing him a kind smile. Mort couldn't help but smile back.

He liked her smile. It felt as if the more she did it the more he felt safe. Her hair flowed along with her as she walked, bouncing with every step. Her smoky brown eyes and luscious lips toped off her marvelous style. When they took the turn toward the snack machines Mort speeded up his walk.

"It was nice talking to you." she said slowing down her walk. Her walk got slower and slower until she stopped.

"It was nice talking to you too." Mort agreed

"Maybe I'll start coming to movie more often." Marta flirted. Mort let out a polite laugh. "Goodnight, Mort." she said. Marta turned around toward the bathrooms. He began his way to the entrance from where he first came in. But he found himself walking behind her again. Nothing was going through his mind, but at the same time something was.

He couldn't help but go after her, but he wanted to stop. Mort wasn't about to make a fool of himself. He felt as if something was burning inside him that only her eyes could let out. He legs began to move faster.

Before he knew it he tapped her on the shoulder. It was too late to keep his distance after all. She was now facing him. He felt his heart in pounding in his head. The world stopped when her smile lite up his heart. Mort stood there while she brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Her eyes widened. He glanced down to see his hand that hadn't left her shoulder.

_Come on Morty, your looking like a stalker here don't ruin it, _he thought. Mort took his own advice and let go of her shoulder. He sat it down at his side while he took a breath. When he looked up at Marta again she was giving him a confused look. Then Mort spoke in a clear voice.

"You wouldn't want to go get a bite to eat with me would you?" Mort asked.

"Actually . . ." There was a pause. "I would."

"Okay!" Mort said.

"Okay . . . I'll be right back, can you wait right here while I go use the restroom?"

"Of course." Mort said. Marta left to use the restroom as she said. Mort took a sigh of relief.

* * *

A/N: Congratulations! You made it through the first chapter. (I know it was long) I promise you it gets better. lol . Reviews please!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I just decided I'd post the seond chapter. P.S. reviews appreicated.

* * *

Chapter 2

"So when you say it's in you top ten you say you like scary movies?" she asked.

"Definitely." Mort replied sipping his glass of water. Mort and Marta started talking while waiting for their meals to come. They drove to one of the town centers about five minutes away from the theater. They stopped to dine at the new restaurant in New London. Mort held the door open for Marta as they entered. He followed her to the counter to order. Mort had already offered to pay for her meal for the fact that he was the one who asked her out.

Marta had ordered the Spicy Thai Caesar Salad and Mort ordered the Mediterranean Mixed Grill. After ordering they got their drinks and took their order number with them to their seat. Marta led Mort to one of the booths second from the window. As they sat down Marta took off her coat revealing her beautiful brown two tone floral print tee with a raglan sleeve, cut away shoulder detail, and tied at the shoulders.

Mort and Marta both sat down looking around at the place as they gave into the romantic atmosphere. The place was quiet and imitate. The whole place was only lite up with the candle lights that sat in the middle of every table and the brighter lights gearing from the kitchen. All the walls were orange and the seats were black while the tables were a dark swietenia macrophylla. While surrounded by other people enjoying there dinners music played from the small silver speakers came out a soft jazz rhythm. Mort set his glass of water back on the table.

"What's the scarcest movie you've ever seen?" she asked.

"Oh, um . . . where do I start . . . The Exorcist. That's one creepy movie." They suddenly busted into laughter. Just then the food arrived and their stomachs ached from laughing as the waiter came caring their plates in over his shoulder on a large tray. He sat Marta's Salad in front of her then sat Mort's meal in front him.

"Compliments of the chief." he said sitting down the complimentary basket of rolls. "Enjoy." The waiter said once more and left the table. Marta took her fork and took the first bite of her salad. She closed her eyes as she was pleased with the taste. Mort took his knife and fork and began to cut his chicken.

"I remember the first time I saw that." Marta said. "It was with my mother and every time she saw that possessed girl she'd jump out of her seat into my lap and dug her nails into my skin." Mort started laughing again.

"I know how she feels." He said once he calmed himself back down to talk. Marta laughed along as she took another bite of her salad. Mort watched her. Her hair fell over her shoulders and around her face. Every bite she took she opened her mouth wide putting barely any fork into her mouth, but enough to show her blazing white teeth.

Marta looked down at her food when she ate looking up every time she was in the middle of chewing. She looked up at Mort after she took a small mouthful of lettuce covered in fiery red chili dressing. She quickly reached for her drink.

"Do you like the food?" Mort asked already knowing the answer to his own question.

"Yes, I'm loving this salad." she replied. "Thank you for taking me out to dinner."

"It's my pleasure." Mort said finally cutting his steak. With his fork he stuck it in the steak then put it up to his mouth. He opened wide to fit it in. Then when it was inside he quickly closed down, gently pulled his fork out, and chomped down on the steak. His mouth filled with the taste of the grilled steak, tomato, olives, onions, and the savory tzatziki sauce.

"So . . . Mort . . . what is it that you do for a living?" Marta asked as Mort as he was chewing his food. She waited for a moment while Mort quickly chewed his food up to answer. Mort swallowed his steak half chewed then wiped the sides of his mouth with the napkin by his plate.

"I'm a writer." Mort answered setting the napkin back down on the table.

"Really . . . wait . . . Mort--Mort Rainey."

"That would be me." Mort said. "I didn't know you were a reader."

"Yea of course. Who lives in the state of Maine and doesn't read the famous Mort Rainey."

He was shocked by the compliment yet he couldn't deny how good it made him feel. Still he thought it best to change the subject. "Well enough about me . . . tell what you do for a living?" Mort asked.

"I believe you know all about that field of work." Marta replied then took another bite of her salad.

"You're a writer?" Mort asked surprised.

"Guilty. I've loved to write sense I was about eighteen, I think. My whole life I thought I wanted to be a painter. My father was a writer. I guess you could say it runs in the family."

"Really I think that's wonderful. So you paint?"

"Not really. More like taking something and throwing paint on it." Marta joked. Mort laughed getting the sense that she was just being modest.

"What kinds of things did you paint?"

"I don't know . . . things that I see." she said taking another bite of her salad. Mort waited for her to be done chewing. "One time I painted a fence."

Mort laughed. At this point he knew she was joking about being a painter. "What did you paint on it?"

"The sky." she replied. Mort took the moment to glance into her eyes. They were so sincere.

"I would love to see your gallery sometime." Mort said finally taking a second bite of his steak.

"Maybe if you're lucky I'll let you. Anyway I'm a writer now."

"You shouldn't give up on painting if it's your true passion. . ." Mort insisted.

"Trust me . . . it's not." Marta said looking Mort straight in the eye. Mort felt like asking more about her life as an artist then as a writer, but something else told him not to. She was so mysterious and interesting that he felt no matter what they talked about she'd never give him the full story.

"Have you published anything yet?"

"Oh, only one got published. It's a tough business."

"You don't have to tell me that. So what is this story called?" Mort asked. Mort leaned on the table crossing his arms looking interested in her words, looked into her eyes, and listened to her like he knew her for years.

"_The Devil's Tower_." she said. Marta told him of her first book she'd ever wrote and then published three years ago and how her dad always inspired her to be a writer. His name was Antonio Vasquez. His books were mostly popular in Spain.

They continued talk a lot during their dinner. At least an hour had gone by before they realized where they were or how quickly the time seemed to fly. Mort loved the conversations they shared. There was an always a laugh at each new subject. Each time Mort felt like he could go on forever just talking to her. Just like tonight. Mort continued to watch her eat after she slit another piece of lettuce into her mouth she looked away towards the people who were dancing.

Mort didn't look away. Instead he found himself looking down at her blouse looking further down towards her bosom. He thought for a moment he was in another place. Perhaps a hotel. His body felt as if it were there, but he continued a sitting position. Marta stood in front of him nodding her head. She was soaking wet. Slowly she moved her hands to the top of her blouse. Mort watched her closely never looked down or away. Only at her deep brown eyes that hypnotized him.

"Mort?" Marta suddenly said. Mort woke up from his dream before Marta could unbutton anything. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked. Mort didn't realize that while he was daydreaming that he had been really staring at her chin all along.

"No." he replied.

"Is the food okay--you haven't been eating much." she said.

"It's good." _How I can eat when I'm thinking of all these naughty thoughts about you, _he thought of saying but didn't. Would it have been too flirty or send out the too-fast-too-soon signal? She could take it as being too forward. Perhaps it would charm her. Still Mort didn't say it.

"You know what I think?" she asked.

"What?" Mort asked.

"I think we need to dance."

"Dance? I'll pass I'm not a very good dancer." Mort said.

"I'll teach you." Marta suggested.

They heard some music playing louder as the saxophone played it's solo. Marta stood up with her hands out in front for Mort to take. She moved her hip from side to side.

"Danza con mi." she said. _What, _he thought of asking but Marta must have known he didn't speak Spanish. Yet he felt he knew what she was saying; to dance with her. Mort gave up quickly and lay his hands in hers. After all what was he going to be let her speak Spanish until he learned a new language?

His heart began to beat faster from his nervousness. _What if I step on her feet or fall down or knock her over, _he thought. More question of the sort ran though his mind. Marta walked as she held his hand to the middle of the dance floor. He followed as he was being pulled along like a toddler with his mommy in a crowed place. Surrounded by other couples who were on their own dates dancing closely together.

When Marta turned to face Mort she folded her arms around his neck one by one. Mort just stood there listening to the music playing which now came a man's voice. She touched his hands lightly and placed them at her waist. His hands felt like they were frozen. They rested on her waist loosely. Marta started to move her feet slowly. Mort began to move his feet as well.

They circled around the dance floor slowly as the music played. When she went left he went left. When she moved he moved simple as pie or so he thought. Marta's foot moved to the right and like clockwork Mort moved his foot to the right also. Only this time his foot fell over hers.

"Ouch." she said in a soft voice. Mort looked down at his foot realizing that it settled on top of hers.

"I'm sorry." He said lifting his foot off of hers and back on he hardwood flooring. They started to dance again. The song ended and everyone stopped to clap. So did Marta and Mort. Some of the couples started to leave or go back to their seats. Mort took a step toward the booth but felt Marta's arm on his wrist. She pulled him back over closely to her.

"Let's go through a full song this time." she said. _I don't wanna,_ the toddler in Mort's mind wanted to say, but a piano had already started to play. This time they were to dance to a different beat. Marta put her right hand on his shoulder and her left was held by his left hand. His right hand remained on her waist still not letting himself touch too tightly. Marta moved to the left. Once again Mort's foot landed on hers.

"Sorry." he sighed. As the music continued to play Mort watched his feet so not to miss up again. This time when she moved right he waited until she moved again to move right but he had to move quicker to catch up. _At least I'm not stepping on her,_ he thought. But still he urined for the moment the song ended. Then suddenly Marta's finger touched his chin bringing his head up.

"Just follow my lead." she whispered. She moved her body to the right. "You move one foot at a time after I do." she whispered. Mort moved his right foot toward her. This time without stepping on hers which he found to be an tremendous victory. A smile appeared on his face. Mort now could dance without stepping on her feet.

They continued to dance along with the music of Have a little faith in me by John Hiatt. Soon Mort stopped looking at the floor and up at Marta's ravishing face. As he grew more confident in himself he gripped her waist tighter. Then soon she let him lead. Marta slowly placed her head on Mort's shoulder when Mort took over during the chorus. Mort closed his eyes as his heart was already at a normal speed, but had a different feeling inside. Like a feeling you get when you see your lover. Like when you get lost in a melody of a song and just want to sing along.

Marta began to tighten her hand on his. Mort felt her breathe on his neck as she sighed and the warmth of her touch relaxed him. The touch of her hand so smooth it made his heart feel like it was dancing on water. Every breathe he took he could feel her move up on his chest as his lungs expanded. Chills ran down his spine and down to his legs even to the tips of his toes. His worries seemed to be washed away and forgotten. Nothing else mattered.

He slowly ran his fingers down her hand from the tips of her fingers to her palm making her sigh once more. The warmth of her skin on his was like a soft blanket. Then his hand entered between each of her four fingers and her thumb. Mort watched as he did so. He found Marta was watching him also.

She moved her arm further around his neck pulling them closer together. Mort didn't shy away instead he moved his hand to rest now on her back. Now he was close enough to get a whiff of her hair. It smelt as good as her perfume. Mort rubbed her back as they twirled around the dance floor.

The song came to another piano break. Then the song came to a stop. But they remained in their position for a moment longer. Marta was the first to move. She looked up at Mort smiling showing her teeth. Mort couldn't help but smile back.

The evening continued with more dancing (Mort's idea), but the night soon came to a end. They headed back to the theater. Mort's car had been there all night in the cold waiting for him to arrive back. Marta pulled in the parking lot next to Mort's car then turned off the engine.

"I had nice time." she said. Mort handed her his styrofoam box of his uneaten steak dinner.

"Me too." Mort agreed as he pushed the red button on his seatbelt and the metal buckle came out of the slot. Mort let go of the belt as it pulled itself back into it original position. Mort then reached over to take his box out of Marta's hands.

"So where did you learn to dance so well?" he asked.

"My mother taught me. She was a dancer. Plus I teach dancing lessons on weekdays." she said with her elbow in the arm of her seat resting her head in the palm of her hand.

"You continue to amaze me." They shared another smile together. "Well I'm going to get going and I'll read your book." Mort said.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise." He reached for the door handle. He pushed it open and put his foot onto the ground. Then he stepped his whole body out of the car shutting the door behind him. He couldn't help feeling something was missing, but he didn't turn around.

_She is amazing, _he thought as he reached into his pocket for his keys. For behind him he thought he heard a door shut, but didn't look up. He felt the tip of the key and gripped it tight. He pulled it out looking for the right size key for his car.

"Mort!" he heard someone calling. That time Mort turned around. There was Marta coming toward him holding out his white box. _Oh I did forget something, _he thought, but found he already said it out loud.

"Maybe you should have just thrown it away after all." Marta said handing the box over to him.

"No I was going to wait until I got home to do that." he joked.

"Or just leave it in my car." Marta played along with the joke.

"That one hadn't crossed my mind . . . no I was going to eat it."

"You paid for it." she said. Marta took a step closer toward Mort. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Mort replied.

"For coming out tonight."

"No problem." _I just really got lucky tonight, _he thought of saying but didn't. Instead he pushed the unlock button to his car from his keys. He put his hand to the door handle opening the drivers side. He leaned over the seat and placed his box in the passenger's seat. Then back slowly out. He looked over to his right too see Marta still standing there. His heart jumped and did a little dance, but he didn't let her see that.

Marta took another step closer. She was now close enough to touch. Mort felt like wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against his chest.

"I hope that wasn't your goodbye." she said. Mort raised his eyebrows.

"Oh no . . . I just . . ." _Think that you would want to stand out her in the cold with me until we both fall into each others arms._

_  
_"Thought maybe you wanted to go home." Mort wanted to slap himself after he said that. He needed to think of something to say. Maybe something like, of course not then giving her a hug would be more suitable. But yet it was too late to do so.

"Perhaps . . . we could do this again sometime." she suggested.

"Yea . . . yea I-I'd like that." Mort said. Cold chills ran though his body from the wind that passed though. His skin felt frozen. When he rubbed his hands together they felt rough. Mort started to shiver a little.

Marta took another step closer. Now she was close enough where the tip of their shoes touched.

"Me too." She whispered. Before Mort knew he she was leaning in towards him. Her luscious lips fell upon his frozen lips. He closed his eyes giving into the power of her kiss. Mort could taste her only for a few seconds. He wasn't sure, but it felt only like two seconds had passed, but all the passion in the world filled his heart. She pulled her lips apart from his leaning away then turning away from him.

"Sorry." she said looking down at her feet. Suddenly she slipped away from him beginning to walk away to her car. To drive off feeling stupid for making the first move. The move that Mort felt he should have made, but realized that he was the stupid one.

_How long has she wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her, _he asked himself. He didn't know. He couldn't have known, but he knew that he had feelings for her the moment they met.

He opened his eyes to see she was only a foot away from him now. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He only saw the back of her dangling hair looking as black as coal and maybe just as cold. She moved like a black panther in the night. She had her hand up to her head with her elbow extended out parallel to the ground.

Just then something came over Mort. Suddenly he stepped forward quickly gently taking her by the wrist. When she turned around he pulled up towards him. _I hope I don't get slapped for this, _he thought then kissed her tenderly.

They kissed for about ten seconds. Much longer then before. Marta's hand that had been on her head was now resting against Mort's cheek. She swung her free arm around his neck then slowly moved her other head from his cheek to the back of his neck. They pulled away at the same time.

"I'm not." Mort whispered. Marta only smiled letting Mort know it was okay to kiss her again as he was eager to do. He slowly reached up to lay his hands on her gentle cheeks.

The night had turned out better then he expected. Mort finally had her in his arms and he held her there tight. The cold didn't bother him anymore. Nothing else mattered. Only the warmth of her body was all that he wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was early one Monday morning around ten when she stopped by. The night before she was hard at work late into the night and too tired after work to go out with her beloved boyfriend. She got out of her car carrying a bag from McDonalds. She knocked four times and called him twice before she put her hand on the doorknob.

"Mort!" she called again for the third time. There was no answer. With her hand on the doorknob she gave it a turn. The door slowly came opened peeking her head though. There stood a empty couch in the middle of the living room. She looked at that first because Mort usually slept on the couch.

She took another breath, cleared her throat then called again. Still there was no answer. So she walked in. The house was quiet; the only sound she heard was of her own shoes as she stepped into the middle of the room.

The living room was clean already it didn't look slept in. The pillows were in their right place oddly that shocked her. The blanket that Mort used to cover himself during the night lay folded on the chair on her right. It was an old rocking chair made of wood that she remembered asking him to get rid of.

_Like he ever uses it,_ she thought as she started her way to across the hall. She turned the corner into the kitchen looking in to see that it was also clean. No food stains on the counter tops. No plates in the sink or on the table. Sometimes Mort did that when he had a idea for a story he'd jump up and leave his lunch to spoil. _Same with the shower, _she thought then giggled at little at the image.

As she glanced around she noticed his keys were hanging on the golden key hanger. It occurred to her that he was here. She wondered if she had seen his car as she pulled into the driveway. She reached out and touched the blinds with the tips of her fingers removing them out of her eyesight. Just as she thought, Mort's car was in the driveway.

"Christine?" she heard a voice call from behind her. Her hand let go of the blinds as she quickly turned around letting it hit the window. In the same moment she gasped before she realized it was Mort.

He was upstairs leaning over his desk toward where she stood. He was there she was not seeing much, but only the top half of his body. His hair fell over his eyes. He wore his long sleeve dark blue sweater that hung over his body loosely. It had a few white strips down the middle and over his shoulder from his shirt he wore under it.

Mort's hands were pulling down his laptop screen toward him as if he was hiding something, covering it with the front of his body. His hand moved swiftly over his head pulled back his hair only to fall at the side, but yet out of his face. Then his hand immediately came back to his laptop.

"I thought I heard something." he said with a grin. Christine's anger from his scaring her left when a smile appeared on his face. She returned the smile kindly.

"It was only me." she replied.

"Well, come on up." he insisted. He moved his hands away from his laptop down to his side. Mort then sat down at his desk going back to work on his laptop.

Christine sighed. She walked to the stairs putting her free hand on the railing. She took a step up the stairs one by one. When she arrived at the middle step she saw Mort had begun to go back typing again. His glasses had slid down to the tip of his noise. For a moment he didn't look bothered nor did he look up at Christine. _He must have been in the middle of a story, _she thought.

She took another step up the stairs now picking up her pace. She took another step with both feet on the stair. When she reached the top now on the second floor Mort looked up. He only titled his head towards her only showing half of his face. Christine waited as he closed up his laptop.

There was a white styrofoam box on the desk next beside him. The front was peeked open, but she could only point out the color of red from inside. It smelt of meat maybe hamburger. As soon as he was done he jumped out of his chair to greet her with a hug.

"What's that." he asked referring to the McDonalds bag she held in her hand. Then she glanced down at the brown bag.

"Oh I just thought maybe we could eat some breakfast together."

"Oh, how thoughtful." Mort replied. He took off his glasses that he couldn't really see though anymore, but instead of cleaning them decided to set them down on the desk and turned his attention back to Christine.

"Thank you." As he was attempting for reach for the bag she shifted it away behind her back. She was smiling in a playful manner; a big kind smile of hers that showed all her white as snow front teeth. Mort loved to see her dimples on each side of her cheeks; they almost came up to greet her light blue eyes. The bangs were in her eyes while her blonde hair bangled about an inch below her shoulders.

"Not so fast, where's my kiss?" she asked playfully. This was her usual thing: she does something for you, you do something for her. In Mort's case he always had to give her a kiss. Sometimes he'd play around and give her a peek on the cheek only to make her ask for another. You could say she had a childish charm to her. That's the way Mort thought of her. A charming young woman who wants kisses out of life. If kisses could cure cancer then Christine would have her PHD in kissing.

Mort leaned forward toward her face close enough to give her a kiss. As he did another thought ran through his mind. It had been earlier today when he went to talk to Nina. When he walked in the other morning she greeted him with her normal smile that she usually does. She of course already knew what he wanted to order. He remembered how eager he was to talk to her.

He needed someone to talk to so badly it almost killed him. There wasn't a time before this that he wanted to talk to her so badly. _It was also the first I've ever cheated, _he thought. He walked into Starbucks the earlier that morning with his coat buttoned up because it was freezing cold outside. After they greeted Mort started some small talk. Nina seemed to be unreasonably busy at the moment.

"Nina please . . . its important." he pleaded. Nina was still working her double shifts over the weekend and she had just told Mort she was getting off at eight p.m. He couldn't wait that long.

"Come on, Nina. How busy do Monday's get anyway?" he asked persuasively.

"They get a lot more busy then you think." she replied as she turned to make him some coffee. Just as Mort was being to lose all hope she turned around and gave into him.

"I tell you what . . ." she leaned in closer then lowered her voice to a whisper and said, "come by on my lunch hour and we'll talk." Mort felt like reaching across the counter to give her a big hug. He shared another smile instead. She handed him his coffee and he left quietly.

The cold air chilled his body when he stepped outside once again. Once He found himself shivering a little. The tip of his nose felt frozen solid. The wind brushed his over his ears making them feel as ice. Even his legs felt a bit cold and up though his back was also chilly. He stood in front ofStarbucks for a few minutes. Mort was cold, but he didn't have anything to do until twelve. It was only nine in the morning, but it seemed illogical to go home then by the time he got there he'd to turned around and come back.

He had almost three hours to himself with nothing to do. Mort stood in front of Starbucks with his coffee in his hand staring into space. A crowd of people passed him coming in and out of Starbucks. Apparently Nina was right in Starbucks was more busy on Mondays then he thought.

For the next half hour he walked around town aimlessly stopping to look in though store windows though time to time. The first store was a craft store called ACMoore. There were green pieces of paper on the window for beading lessons which started the upcoming Wednesday for ten dollars a lesson.

Over at the left of the display window were small pumpkins in bright orange with plastic leaves underneath them. Tiny plastic crystals sparkled over them like fresh rain drops. Small men made of straw circled around the display making it look like small village. The village was made of small gingerbread houses surrounded by candy corns. Behind the plastic leaves and ridiculous decorations was the inside the store itself.

A woman in a blue and red vest sat on the stool at the check out counter reading a magazine. A light above her glowed with a number two shaped into it for the isle number. Slowly another women with a small yellow cart filled pulled into the isle. The cart was filled up with do-it-yourself craft kits and pink, yellow, and red fake plastic flowers.

One by one she lay them down the on the check out counter. The other women continued to read her magazine until she finished the article she was reading. She took the items one by one and put them though a red light and transferred them into a plastic bag.

Their process was slow as they made small talk and trying to buy her arts and crafts supplies. The women with the cart raised up her hand toward her face flipping her hair out of her eyes. For a moment her head was raised in the air as if she were waving to someone.

She ran though her hair once more then set it back on the handle to her cart. The women behind the counter continued to talk as she began to hand her one of the green sheets of paper for the beading lessons. Mort laughed to himself then took a sip of his coffee. He glanced down at his feet for a moment to hide his smile.

When he looked back he saw the lady with the cart leaving the store. Her supplies were all in the plastic bags and was waving goodbye to the store clerk with the green paper in her hand. She pushed her cart out of Mort's sight as she heading for the automatic doors.

He felt another cold chill though his body as he took another sip of his coffee. He didn't realize he took a sip of his coffee every five minutes or so from the time he took another sip five minutes ago. Mort looked back up toward the check out counter to see the store clerk lady looking back at him. She smiled a kind smile. Mort took it as his exit and walked on.

The next store was a beauty salon slash spa. With everything you need to feel beautiful as the sign hanging from the door claimed. The people who went to the salon get their hair cut, washed, and even dyed. Some women were getting manicures and pedicures. Others were sitting around reading magazines as their hair dried.

Mort passed about three more stores each of them all in a row; Three Brothers, Office Depot, and Petco. None of them he needed to go into although he always seemed to be running out of paper these days. He walked on taking a sip of his coffee every five minutes and deciding whether he should walk into Office Depot or not.

He hadn't gone to get blank paper in almost a week and he was already on his second packet of paper. Ever sense then Mort had been hard at work working on a new story. He was only on the fifth chapter, but he felt it was really going somewhere.

He started the story when he arrived home late last Friday night. He wrote an hour before turning in to sleep. The following day he wrote for hours. From there he wrote in the late night each night of the weekend after coming home or after a short break. It was always important for Mort not to take his mind too much off of the story he wrote.

He found if he did that he would just lost interest in the story and not have the same motivation as he did before. When a writer loses their motivation they often don't finish the story and find themselves uninterested in the characters. It also can result in having half finished manuscript pilled up in your desk drawer waiting to be completed.

Right away Mort connected with the characters in the story. His favorite character must have been Andy. Andy was the heart of the story--the main character. It was his favorite part of being a writer; you get to be someone else for awhile. Andy was a teacher. A teacher of right from wrong you could say. He didn't have to get his hands dirty with chalk from writing on a chalkboard everyday.

What he had to do was walk into a court room and argue. He believes he can argue is way out of anything until chapter three when he commits a homicide. He then tries to cover it up by being the defendant's lawyer of the person who had been wrongly accused of the murder for the crime he committed. The trail is going well, but then he starts to have these dreams about the victim he murdered. Other then Andy being selfish and totally guilty Mort had found a likeness in him.

Mort took another sip of his coffee. He decided to go inside Office Depot to buy some paper after all. He needed some more blank paper and the store was right in front of him. He also had some time to kill. He picked up two packets of blank paper and made his way to the check out counter. He paid two eighty-nine for each of the two packets of paper. Then he walked out putting his change into his pocket for the ten dollar bill he gave the cashier. He headed for the exit pushing open the first pair of doors before walking outside again.

From the outside a women about thirty with a long purse and trench coat came walking in. She opened the doors that stood in front of Mort. With his free hand Mort held the door he walked though open for her to walk though. As they passed she did the same for him.

"Thank you." she said in a soft almost whispering voice.

"Anytime." Mort replied. He shared with her a kind smile and then turned back heading for the door. The door was quickly closing in front of him but he managed to catch it before it closed shut all the way. He pulled it back open enough to get his body out then stepped outside. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment taking another sip of his coffee. Before he knew it the coffee cup was already half empty. The warm liquid felt good in his throat as he stood out in the cold. He began walking again. He kept a slow walk taking his time drinking his coffee and looking though store windows.

The store he found himself looking though was the PETCO. Inside the store some people walked around with their dogs on leashes putting every dog toy on sale in their carts. Most popular of the toys that people picked up the long colored rope to play tug-a-war with. The store was filled with everything you'll need for you pet. They had your dog, cat, bird, ferret, fish, iguana, snakes, hamsters, guinea pigs, and even spider supplies.

People gathered around the presentation being held there for adopting a pet. Today they showed puppies of the golden retrievers and labrador retrievers. There was a crowd of people in line to pet the dogs. They were all put in one cage that made a large circle with no top like the kind of cages you see in petting zoos. That's what it was; a giant petting zoo. Only at this petting zoo you're allowed to take the animals' home with you.

Just then something else had caught Mort's attention. In the display window they showed the new released books Hostage by W.E.B. Griffin, The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown, and Mary Mary by James Patterson. It was no other then Barns and Nobles book store next door. _Finally_ he thought _something that I can go inside and look around in. _So he went inside.

A small bell that hung from the door rang. The pile of books stacked on the display table was the first thing he noticed when he walked inside. Just then all of the store employees looked up at Mort. Mort could tell by the look in their eyes they immediately knew who he was. He made his way to the horror section. It filled up four isles of horror books as Mort looked though carefully. His intentions were just to browse around the store for awhile.

He entered down the long isle of books looking at the ones to his right. He perused from the books top to bottom. The shelves which held the books were about a foot shorter then him. When he would glance up at the books on the top shelves he could see out the side of his eye one female employee staring at him. She seemed to be watching him very closely. It gave Mort a feeling that was a bit awkward. Still he continued to scan his way though the books. He took another sip of his coffee and sighed.

Meanwhile the women that had been just staring at him started his way. She was a heavy women looking about two hundred pounds or more. There was a big hunk of fat that filled her shirt and juggled as she moved out from behind the counter. Her hair was long down to her waist and swung back and forth when she walking looking slovenly. She came a yard closer then soon she was coming up beside him. Mort continued to look at the books acting as if he didn't see her.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a kind voice. He finally looked up at her face. On the left side of her chest she wore a name tag that read Tabatha. She wore little make up around her eyes, but her lips had too much pink lipstick.

"No that's ok I'm just snooping." Mort replied.

"Oh . . . well let me know if you need anything." she said. Now her voice lowered to a softer voice. It sounded more like the way you would talk to a dog or a baby.

"Sure will." Mort said kindly. She turned away and starting walking back to the counter. Before she reached all the way back Mort turned his attention back to the books.

_What am I looking for, _he asked himself. _Wasn't I supposed to get a book? _Just then he remembered. It was the book that Marta wrote called The Tower. _The Devils Tower. _He told Marta he would read before he had gotten out of her car. He didn't forget that wonderful detail of when they kissed. It wasn't that kind of a kiss that you give a close friend or family member, but the kind you would give a lover. He licked his lips at the thought. Soon he had her up against his car kissing her down her neck. His thoughts ran over him like a truck on the highway.

Every detail of that evening ran though his mind quickly. It was like every feeling from the night came back to him. The feeling of being pulled into something he had no control over. In that moment he didn't have any control. He let his mind to rest while his body took over. Mort faced the floor to look at his feet as he tried to make the thought go away. From a distance Mort might have looked like he was either crying or frustrated. He hoped no one would notice or come over. But maybe the woman was still watching him.

Soon he felt that he could look up again. The thoughts had left his mind a rest for now. The woman, like he thought, was thankfully not watching him at that moment. She was away helping another customer find a book in the history section.

He began looking for _The Devil's Tower. _The books were in rows lined up in alphabetical order. First he began looking for it in the D section of the horror isle. He put his finger on the first book that started with the letter D. As he went down the row he moved his finger across every book to make sure he wouldn't miss it. He moved his finger along the row of the books that started with DA. Then came DE. Just then before he thought he might have gone though the whole alphabet a million times he spotted the book.

He moved the tips of his index and middle finger on the top of the book. He gently slid the book out of its place leaving an empty space in the row. He held the paper back book with both hands in front of him. The cover was black and the title was in red. The letters of the title were in a smoky looking font. There was a small picture of a black and red tower in the middle of the book. Under the title in a smaller and different font was Marta Vasquez. Mort smiled as he opened the book up to the back. On the back cover was a small black and white picture of Marta.

She was standing in what looked like a porch with her hand on the railing and the other on the porch. Her body faced the camera as she looked to her left showing her white teeth while she smiled. A grin appeared on Mort's face as he looked at her joyous face. Her hair disheveled from the wind that had been blowing when the picture was taken.

Her hair reached down over her breasts much like it was now covering some of the front part of her shirt. The shirt she wore had the right side cut off showing her bare shoulder. A long piece of fabric from her around her neck hung just above her knee where the page ended. The pants she wore fitted loosely around her legs with a belt in between putting together her sensual look.

Then he closed up the book and walked out of the isle. Tabatha was still helping the same customer, but now they moved over to the romance novels. They laughed together in middle of the isle. They hung onto each others arms to keep them from falling and possibly rolling on the floor from their laughter. Their eyes squinted closed.

Slowly they began to calm down. The customer let go of Tabatha's arm, but remained holding her wrist. Tabatha put her hand up to her mouth trying her hardest not to begin laughing again. Tabatha nodded as the customer pulled away after whispering something into her ear. Tabatha replied in another whisper to what she said then put her hand back over her mouth.

"Oh, Tabatha . . . I believe we have an audience." the customer said referring to Mort who had been standing at end of the isle watching them. Tabatha slowly removed her hand from her face down to her side.

"Mr. Rainey . . . can . . . um, can I help you?" Tabatha replied with a little giggle in her voice. He looked down at the book in his hand then back up at the two ladies.

"Yes . . . I would like to purchase a book."

"I'll be with you in a moment." she said. They went back to looking at the books in the isle they were in. Mort walked away again toward the check out counter. He stopped at the sign in front of the counter that read: Please wait to be called next. He obeyed what the sign said and waited for Tabatha to come.

She came over within a few minutes later. She carried with her a stack of books that came from the isle along with the customer she had been helping. When she caught sight of Mort she smiled. Before getting behind the counter she handed the women her books. One giant step at a time she came wottling over.

Her fat moved from side to side with her breasts bouncing over her body like they were walking all by themselves. She came closer moving from side to side like she had something stuck up her ass that forced her to walk that way. She entered behind the counter thought a small door that flopped open like a door you see at a bar in a old western movie.

She stood leaning over the counter with her huge arms as Mort handed her the book. She wrapped her husky hands around the book pulling it toward her. She checked it with the red light and placed it in a plastic bag.

"That will be seven ninety-nine." she said in her baby voice.

Mort reached into his wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill then placed it in the palm of her hands. She closed up her hand bring in the ten dollar into the crash register then handed Mort his change.

"Are you Mort Rainey?" the customer standing in line behind him asked holding her books up against her breasts tightly, her short blonde hair hanging over her face like she had been running all day. Mort glanced at her with genus eyes.

"Yes." he replied softly.

"I thought you looked familiar." she said.

Just then Tabatha turned toward him handing him the plastic bag with his book inside. "Here you go Mr. Rainey." she said.

"Thank you." he replied taking the bag from her grip.

"Thank you for shopping at Barns and Nobles." she said with a smile. He placed his wallet back into his pocket with one hand and holding his coffee and bag with the other.

He took a glance at his watch and saw it was almost twelve. It was finally time to head back to Starbucks. Just as he was heading for the door the customer then called, "Wait! Mr. Rainey!"

He politely turned around seeing the women with the short blonde hair walking up to him with a pen and notepad. Right away he knew what she wanted, an autograph. It was something he wasn't used to, but when he got asked for one he wasn't the kind to delay--he did what they asked. Of course he didn't like it as much as he always appeared to. But he didn't mind. Signing autographs was just something that came with the job of being famous although he didn't consider himself famous just someone who managed to reach a few people with his words.

"Can I have you're autograph?" she asked.

"Sure thing darlin'." Mort replied. She handing him the notepad and pen. "What's you're name sweets?"

"Sarah." she replied. Mort signed the notepad and quickly handed it back to her. Before she got the chance to look at it he was out the door. The cold air once again filled his body with chills. He balanced the coffee cup and two bags in his hand and zipped up his coat with his free hand. He felt just a bit warmer, but not by much. The cold wind still made the air colder then it really was.

He took a deep breath to let out a small puff of white air from his mouth. The coldness made his body quiver. Mort took one last gulp of coffee then tossed it into the trash bin beside him. Simultaneously the women inside Barns and Nobles looked down at her note pad she had given Mr. Rainey to sign it read:

_To Sarah, _

_It's always a pleasure to meet a reader _

_Mort Rainey. _


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is when it starts getting rated M. Just to let you know.

* * *

Chapter 5

Mort had begun walking back to Starbucks. He passed the PETCO and Office Depot on his way back. Then some other stores he had passed and looked though. The people he saw before in the Salon had changed their positions. Some new people had come and gone while he was around the corner. He walked with his two bags in one hand and his free hand in his jacket pocket to keep from getting too cold. He walked faster then he had before to get to Starbucks faster now that it was closer to the time Nina was going on break. He had a whole half hour left, but he figured he start on some reading while he waited.

The novel he had just bought seemed to be an excitement to read and bonus it was in the horror section of the store which he almost always liked to look. Unlike some people who were into reading romance novels. He didn't much mind those people although they seemed a bit desperate for love. The thought of Sarah and Tabatha came to mind at the thought.

Sarah had picked up a few romance novels while he shopped there. The five books she held up against her chest were all romance novels. Maybe one was a horror or something rather different, but on the outside Mort noticed the romance ones. Like the kind that Fabio does the covers for. _What was it with women and foreign muscular guys with long flowing hair? _

Just then two people had passed Mort by. Holding hands, laughing at her boyfriends jokes, short chocolate brown hair blowing in the wind. Her boyfriend lite her up like the fireworks on the 4th of July. They must have been in their mid twenties. Two people in love. She almost ran into Mort's shoulder, but instead she looked up at him with a smile on her face. A smile also appeared on across Mort's face. A second later they had already passed by five feet behind Mort. Then like magic he realized he was standing in front of Starbucks.

Finally some warm air had chilled his body. He let out of sigh or relief. To be back in a warm atmosphere felt so good. He saw Nina over at the counter giving someone their change after buying a Tall Caffè Latte. The man took his change, said his thanks, and put his money into his wallet as he started his way out. Nina watched him head toward the door. Her eyes met Mort's who was just standing a foot away from the door. He raised his hand from his side to wave at her now that she was smiling back at him.

Mort began his way toward her letting his hand drop back down to his side. She had already begun helping another customer when Mort arrived at the counter. He stood the side so not to be in the way. The man was ordering his coffee while Mort waited to talk to Nina.

She had a very attended face like she was fascinated with what the man was saying. She was a very good listener, but this took the cake. Mort felt like laughing at the moment, but it didn't really seem like the right time nor the place. Her expression was much like the Tabatha's from Barns and Nobles when she had first come over to greet Mort. She asked him if he needed any help, but her face seem to have this captivate look to it.

"Ten minutes . . ." Nina said when she was done attending to the costumer.

All Mort's thoughts at the moment collided together into one big nothingness. "Yes?" he asked quite dully.

"I said just sit down and wait. I got ten more minutes." she repeated.

"Oh . . . sure." Mort did as she suggested. He took a sit over next to the window in the back of the room. He liked to be out of everyone's way so that he could have some privacy and quiet. It was quite quiet in the back due to the fact no one ever sits there. Except for when Mort and Nina talked, that's where they usually sat. No one was there to bother them.

Here their conversations could run for hours at a time. The light from the sun still shined though the window just enough to make the lighting look dim and shadowy. They found it to be really peaceful. It was something like some sort of a fortification that kids build when they are around six or seven to eight years old. Some place of their own that no one else goes to. Now they had to have more of a high tech fortress sense they were adults as known as _The Dark Tower _as they would joke about their little place in the corner.

The purple seat and the old dark red tables were too obsolete to be in the newly finished front. The place had been renovated a few months back when Mort first saw it. Nina was the one who suggested keeping the corner in the older look to make it look more elegant, but the manager just took it as a chance to save money. So long story short they kept the corner the same, but changed everything else. All the tables were a limed oak making the room look brighter.

He lay his bags on the ground beside him, quickly he reached into his bag from Barns and Nobles and pulled out _The Devil's Tower. _He opened the book to the first page. There after the contents page was a short paragraph from Marta reading a special thanks to her father and mother for their support. _For they have always been there for me _she had written. The paragraph ended with a dedication of the book to her father in his memory. He flipped to the next page where the first chapter had started and started reading.

He was sitting there for about fifteen minutes reading silently in _The Dark Tower_. He was already in the middle of the second chapter when he felt a slight tap on his shoulder. Mort quickly looked up from his book leaving half of his sentence unread. Nina was leaning over his shoulder from behind greeting him with a friendly hug. She walked around the table and took a seat across from him.

"What's that?" she asked eyeing at the book.

"Oh . . . it's a book that I bought today called _The Devil's Tower_." Mort replied.

"Really. Who's it by?"

"Well . . . that involves what I have to talk to you about."

"Ok make it fast, I'm starving." she said. She sat with her arms crossed over each other on the table with her head held up high. Mort closed up his book setting it to the side. When he looked back up at her she had a smile on her face, but Mort looked at her with serious eyes. His mouth began to move, but no sounds came out. He found himself opening and closing his mouth.

He'd think of how to start a sentence, but then stop himself. Everything that he seemed to be thinking of to say seemed to be something he wouldn't want to say when in fact he didn't want to have to say anything about Friday night. Nina's eyes began to widen. He wasn't sure how long he'd been silent.

"I'm not quite sure how to say it." He finally managed to get out.

"Oh come on Mort you can tell me it . . . whatever it is." Nina said full of sympathy for him.

"I . . ." he began. _Come on Morty. Just say it. Say it! Say it! Say it! You cheated on Christine! I cheated on Christine! _

"I cheated on Christine." Mort said aloud. He watched Nina's smile go to blank stare. She began to rub her elbows with the tip of her hands. Then she seemed to be looked at everything else expect Mort as if she was ashamed to even look at him. For a second she glanced down at the floor.

Then when she looked back up at Mort she had her regular face back to her. Mort wasn't sure what was running though her mind. _What was she thinking? What was she going to say? She's really gonna kick your ass about this one, Morty. _

"When?" she asked in a soft voice. Mort sighed with relief. He wasn't expecting that. Something more of a how could you or don't you love her kind of suited the situation better. What kind of a question was when anyway? Who asks when, when something like this happens? But one thing was for sure he was expecting; not to know the answer.

"Friday night." Mort replied.

"This pasted Friday night?" she asked.

"Yea." Mort said. He almost felt like asking her where was she going with this, but didn't.

"How'd it happen?" she continued to ask.

"Well we met when I went to see a movie . . ." Mort began. He told her the whole story every detail that had happened that night. His thoughts stopped begin stuck in his throat and came out like a bullet fired from a gun. All his thoughts poured out of him like a good wine. He spilt everything even the kiss at the end. It was most important part of his story.

"What are you going to do?" Nina asked once Mort had finished.

"I don't know." Mort quickly replied.

"You know your going to have to tell Christine." she said sincerely.

"Yea . . . I know. I just feel so badly about it."

"Do you love her?" Nina asked. "That important because if you don't . . . it wouldn't be fair for either of you to have that kind of relationship."

Her words stuck him like a knife. "Your right." he said. "What was I thinking?"

He closed his eyes then he was suddenly back with Christine. She was smiling in a approving way that she was satisfied by his gentle kiss. She handed Mort the McDonald's bag. He took it by the top and peeked inside like a kid in elementary school seeing what he mom had packed him for lunch.

Mort quickly sat down at his desk reaching inside the bag to pull out a Premium Spicy Chicken Sandwich. He placed the napkins down on his desk then opened the small box with the sandwich inside. Christine watched him as he took his first big bite of the sandwich with both hands holding the sides. His mouth let go of the sandwich with a big mouthful of chicken and the spicy sauce. The sauce filled his mouth with a burning sensation making Mort reach for the green cup filled water that had been sitting on his desk.

The liquid flowed down his throat with an mild taste. The heat in his mouth diminished and he gulped the remaining of the water down. Mort took another bite of his sandwich this time a smaller bite. The taste wasn't as hot as before so he took another small bite.

"Mort!" Christine shouted. Mort looked up to see the bedroom door opened. He hadn't seen her wonder into the other room. She was calling from the bedroom. The door was swung halfway opened. Her voice sounded surprised. Just he couldn't interpret whether it was a good scream or a bad scream. He didn't know what to think. From the sound of her scream she might my slit her own throat. It also could mean she seen something she wasn't supposed to see.

He got up from his seat and run to the door. With his heart pumping fast his entire body leaned against the door. His hand was on the door knob then it swung open. There was Christine standing front of the closet looking very much surprised. Her hands clutched to her chest but a smile came upon her face. _Now I'm confused _Mort thought.

"Christine?" he said almost whispering.

"You're making the closet bigger." she replied. She turned toward Mort and started walking toward him like she was about to start skipping.

"Yes." Mort replied.

"I didn't know you were capable." She came up to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Well looks can be deceiving." Mort said. He remembered at the moment when Jason came over the other day to work on the closet once again. Mort was outside taking his afternoon walk down to the creek and back while Jason was hammering away inside the house.

Mort had stopped to get some more corn off the stock from his cornfield. He picked about seven of them and placed them in an old basket he had laying around. He came back into the house with the basket full of corn. He walked into the kitchen to peel the strips of husk off the corn. He put a pot of water on the stove and placed each ear or corn inside it. The water began to boil and six minutes later he ate his lunch. Jason smelt the corn from upstairs then came downstairs to join Mort. They ate the corn at the small table in the kitchen.

"I'll be done with your closet in about a week, Mort." Jason said taking another ear of corn from the steaming bowl.

"I appreciate it Jason, but you really don't have to." Mort replied. Jason came back into the table with his third serving of corn on his plate.

"I know but I want to." Jason said.

"I guess you'll want something in return." Mort said.

"No. Just to try and keep you in a relationship."

"I've been in a relationship before."

"Well look how that turned out." Jason took a seat across from Mort. "Look . . . Mort . . . you got to show them that you care . . . simple as that."

"I do."

"I'm not saying you do or don't I'm just saying that you should be thinking more into what she want's."

"That sounds a lot like telling me that I don't care." Mort said with an defending, but angered tone.

"Okay maybe I am but . . . but let me fix up your house a little, make her think it's you who doing it then take it from there."

"That sounds vacuous." Mort replied.

"Just do it . . . trust me." Mort did in fact trust Jason. He played along with his fibs for as long as they could last, so what if he wasn't the one building onto the closet. It was the fact that it was getting done that mattered. From the look on Christine's face when she found out was priceless. She had fallen for the little trick Jason had set up.

At the moment Mort didn't care. Her arms wrapped around his, her lips clasped onto his, her tongue massaging against his--she was kissing him like it was their first kiss. Her tongue slid out of his mouth then her lips loosened from his. They both stood there breathing against one another.

"That is so . . . thoughtful and sweet of you." she said.

"I'm glad you like it." he replied.

"Oh, Mort." she said then kissed him again. "I love it."

_Maybe I should listen to Jason more often, _Mort thought as she kissed him once again tenderly for a few minutes. _Yet why couldn't he stay in his own relationship?_

Her hands remained around his neck the whole time. It wasn't until she would bring her hands down to Mort's chest that was her signal that she wanted to stop. She must have felt that putting her hands against his chest was like pushing him off of her, but in a kind way Mort guessed. He never refused to stop kissing her when she touched his chest although he knew times when he wanted to refuse. It was just like Christine to have that kind of power over him.

"Let's just spend the whole day together." she suddenly said.

"You sure? You don't have work or anything?" Mort asked.

"My day is clear as rain." she said.

They had spent the whole day together that day. Apart from kissing in the bedroom Christine quickly finished up some work as Mort took a shower. Later that day they both took a walk to the lake. They took off their shoes to feel the cold water against their bare feet. Then they went out on a row boat Mort had tied up to the dock.

Mort rowed them out to the middle of the lake where they had a picnic lunch out of a small white basket. Christine had packed it while Mort sweeped the dirt off the front porch earlier. She made tuna sandwiches on wheat bread. She also packed some deviled eggs Mort kept in the refrigerator that would go uneaten and soon rot.

"I saved it." she had said. She'd always say that when she found something of Mort's that was old or going rotten. The eggs were still good enough to eat. So in a way she had saved it. Christine had also packed some white sparkling wine that she poured into a tall glass for two. After they ate they stayed out on the lake for about two hours just enjoying the view and sipping their wine. The water surrounded them and the trees surrounded the lake. Christine lay on Mort's lap as they listened only to the sound of water tapping against the boat.

For awhile they talked. At first it was too peaceful to talk and easier just to listen. Mort put his arms around her midrift rubbing the skin on her sides, her head resting on gently on his chest. She'd look up at him every once and awhile. Every time she did Mort was looking across the water to at the roof to a house nearby. It was close to Mort's house. It was just built behind his during the summer. No one lived in it yet or appeared to.

The house was bigger then his and the driveway to the house was before you turn down his driveway. It started out as a dirt trail, but now it was cemented with the mail box at the end of it. Mort now had to look at the numbers on the house mail box to make sure it was his. He figured sooner or later he'd get used to it. Sometimes he even thought of on purposely driving down the other driveway to see the house. If anyone was there he could say it was an accident. He'd probably come off to be a little creepy to his new neighbors at the same time he thought he had the right to say hello.

"More wine?" Christine asked Mort.

"No. I don't want to be rowing under the influence." Mort joked. Christine laughed her little girlish laugh as she always did when he made a joke.

Mort later rowed back to the dock and tied up the boat. They held hands as they walked back to the house. While walking up the driveway, holding each other close, they heard something from a far. It sounded of someone shouting and another person crying. Christine and Most stopped in their places on the driveway. The shouting they found was coming from the opposite side the fence. Mort's new neighbors had arrived.

"I thought you said no one lived there." Christine said.

Mort shrugged. "Maybe we should go say hello."

The shouting increased. It came clearer that the person doing the shouting was a man and the crying was from a woman. He was hollering at the women, but the sobbing women had the courage the yell back. It didn't take long for them to realize they were squabbling. Their feud could have been heard from a mile away. They wouldn't stop yelling at each other. They are pissed off and they wanted the world to know.

"I don't think now would be the best time." Christine replied.

"I guess your right." Mort agreed. They walked together to the front of the house. The yelling from the neighbors only escalated. As Mort and Christine walked up the steps to the porch their attention focused back to the fight. They could hear their arguing very clearly.

"Why are you even here Marta, shouldn't you be some bitch convention or something!" the man said angrily.

"Fuck you, Tom!" the women shouted.

"Right because you would fuck anyone expect me wouldn't you!" the man shouted back.

"Marta?" Mort muttered under his breath.

"What?" Christine asked.

"Nothing." he replied. Mort felt a slight feeling in his bladder. It increased as they stepped in front of the house. Christine walked inside the house first, Mort followed. Immediately Mort rushed toward the bathroom unbuckling his pants on the way.

"Mort!" Christine called. Mort quickly turned around. For moment she said nothing. His eyes felt like they were going to water or he was going to pee on himself. Little drops of sweat fell from his forehead.

"You want to go to the art gallery with me?" she asked.

"Sure." Mort quickly replied unaware of what he just committed himself to. Christine smiled letting Mort continued his way to the bathroom. He rushed inside closing the door behind him. He quickly unzipped his fly and leaned over the toilet with his hand against the wall for support and urinated. He let out a big sigh that was loud enough for all of Maine to hear.

"Mort? You ready?" she asked.

"Coming." Mort replied. He let the last of the fluid out of his system then lifted his body up from the wall to stand on his own. He zipped up his fly and flushed toilet. He quickly buckled his pants back up then walked out. Christine was waiting for him in front of the door with her purse over her arm.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As ready as I'm going to be." he replied.

Mort drove for forty-five minutes into town to the art museum where they were showing some new paintings. For Christine it was very exciting getting to go see all the works of art of her favorite painters. Mort walked with her side by side as they walked up the large cement steps. When they reached the glass door for the entrance Mort held it open for Christine to walk in like a boyfriend does for their girlfriends. She walked in first then Mort closed the door behind him.

The first thing he saw when he walked in was a huge quilt that the hung by black poles that were pulled into the wall on both ends. The quilt covered the entire two story wall completely. The walls were all a dull cloudy grey color but the quilt gave the massive room some color. The quilt looked like an old man with a red face holding some keys in his right hand. It must have had every color you could think of in the quilt. The artist seemed to add the colors for the Crayola Crayons into the quilt as well.

If you could take your eyes off the quilt you would see the security guards standing by waiting to check you and your carry on luggage. They walked over to the security metal detectors after Mort had to tug on Christine's arm a little to get her to move. There stood two security guards. The first one told Christine to walk through the metal detector and the other check her purse. Even the smallest purses have to be checked the sign read in front of the line to walk through the metal detector.

They also told her to remove any metal she may have on her body. The only thing she took off was a small charm bracelet she happened to be wearing. She slipped it into her purse so it wouldnt get lost then she walked through it without it making a sound. Next it was Mort's turn. He was asked to remove any metal objects from his body while Christine waiting eagerly for him to come through. Even though he did want to spend the whole day with Christine he couldn't help wishing that he gets kicked out of the place or somehow the iron in his blood is too high to go in.

To say the least that didn't happen, but there was suddenly a loud beeping noise. The security guard quickly ran over toward Mort. He sat his hands on a small hand held metal detector and ran it across Mort's body. The beeping nose increased when he ran across Mort's pockets. He ordered Mort to empty his pockets. Mort followed his orders.

He reached into his pocket as everyone around him waited to see what was inside. Along with the two security guards and Christine there were women behind Mort in line to get into the museum. They were elderly women. They each held a messenger bag across there shoulders. They also waited eagerly to get inside. Both of them had been watching Mort closely as he pulled his hand from his pocket revealing a pair of keys.

"Car keys." Mort said to the guard. The guard gave him a look that said you-better-not-do-that-again. From the look in his eye Mort didn't take that kindly. He quickly placed his car keys back into the his pocket and finally walked over to Christine. She let out a sigh or relief along with the same look that the security guard had gave him.

They spent the rest of the day walking around looking at the paintings. Most of them Christine would pause and look at his with her hand up to her chin looking as if she were puzzled about something. Every time Mort would look around he would see other people doing the same. He followed around Christine all day from room to room to pauses to pauses. Christine would explain the paintings to Mort when he would try to imitate the puzzled look, but even when she would interrupt the paintings not all of them were as clear.

Like one painting was a rectangle titled to the left on the wall in a bright lime green color. In the middle of the same room had what looked like an anchor that used to be a attached to a ship. At the end of the anchor was a thick rope left in a circled position next to it. Some were simple still life art of food or flowers on tables. Mort enjoyed the ones that didn't need interrupting.

The one he was quite fond of was the still life painting called Apples by Geoff Hale. The painting was of apples in a octagon shape bowl. Underneath it was a wrinkled cloth formed around the bowl. The painting was all in on color of turquoise with only a lonely red apple a out of the bowl. Mort found that somehow he could relate to the red apple rather then the other turquoise apples. For him he thought the painting as a metaphor of something different. Like the red apple stood out rather then blend in with the others.

He also spent a little time looking for any of Marta's painting that could possibly be there. He didn't find any not that he knew what her work looked like anyway. But the way she talked about her paintings they seemed to be the kind that should be put into a museum unlike most the paintings he saw. Perhaps she would have told him if she did publish a painting like she told him about her book. Still he didn't find any.

The last room they walked into was a art gallery of all Vincent Van Goth paintings. Christine immediately walked over to the painting she had been talking about showing Mort for the past few weeks. The painting she wanted to show Mort was Van Goth's painting of Starry Night. The painting was images of Van Goths reflect on his childhood in Holland and the values he held dear.

"This painting he did was all by his memory of a village under a starfilled sky, a veritable tapestry of stars, and a symbol or spiritual consolation." Christine whispered into Mort's ear. The village in the painting was hardly visible. The sky was what caught everyone's attention. How the circle patterns of the sky resembled the stars. After looking at the Starry Night they left the art museum to enjoy some find dining their favorite Italian restaurant nearby.

"That's what I love about Art; you can make it whatever you want it to be." Christine said as they talked over a candle lite dinner.

"Even though they can look ridiculous." Mort replied.

"Only to people who don't appreciate it." Christine said as she took a bite of her chicken she ordered.

"But you have to admit that some of those paintings were . . . queer."

Christine's mouth that was full of chicken, gave Mort a slight smile. She speeded up her chewing to reply. Her chicken soon dissolved inside his mouth letting her to swallow the rest.

"Were there any that wasn't so queer?" she asked.

"Yes of matter of fact there was." Mort answered drinking from his glass full of red wine.

"Really?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes. The ones with the apples." Mort took a sip of his steaming hot soup.

"The Geoff Hale one?" she asked.

"Yea."

"I'm intrigued."

"Well it was a good painting. It was something simple that didn't require the puzzled look."

"The puzzled look?" she asked taking a second bite of the chicken.

"You know . . . the look when you get when you're looking at a painting." Mort said.

"What look?" she snapped.

"This one." Mort put his hand up to his chin and looked toward to his left looking as if he were thinking of something interested. He took another long drink of his wine.

"I do not look like that." Christine protested.

"Of course not . . . you do it much better. You're a professional puzzler."

"You're in this world to mock everybody aren't you, Mort?" she said as she began to cut the rest of her chicken with her knife.

"Only those who appreciate it." He took one last sip of his wine.

"More wine?" He asked Christine who kindly refused his offer. They finished up their meals then headed back to Mort's house. By the time they were close to the house it was pitch black outside without the car's headlights. Mort drove down the road to his driveway. From the lights off the car he saw a mailbox, but not his house address written on it. So he drove slowly by the mailbox that belonged to his next door neighbors that he never saw.

Passing the other driveway seemed to be quite eerie in the night. The trees made whistling sounds when the wind blew hard enough. The sound was loud enough to hear over the car engine. On the ground the driveway was covered in leaves that also rattled when the wind blew making a ghostly sound that could make you jump in your seat. If you looked heard enough you could see blackness of the house giving if a spooky feeling as they passed by. Mort turned down his driveway in the dark slowly. The lights reflected onto the house. Once Mort got close enough he parked the car on the side of the house. He turned off the engine and they both went inside.

Later that evening they had settled in front of the fire cuddling by it's heat. Enjoying the amorous atmosphere they both leaned toward each others lips. The longer they held each other in their arms the more desirous they became. Together they both felt that intense feeling for one another. Their lips finally touched giving them both the feeling of pleasure and satisfaction.

"Bedroom?" Christine asked. Mort nodded a yes and smiled.

Again they kissed of serenity that they both wanted to have each other right now. Mort stood up first then held his hand out for Christine to take. They both stopped to look at one another. Mort lifted his hand to her face and gently rubbed the fur up and down her cheek. She serenely closed her eyes letting his hand comfort her. She her lips began to embrace the tips if his fingers ever so slowly starting with his thumb.

Mort found himself closing his eyes giving in to her soft moist touch. One by one her lips touched his middle finger. Then his ring finger. And finally his pinkie. At the same time their eyes opened and met. Christine began kissing his fingers again from his pinkie to his thumb. She moved more quickly then before. Neither of them looked away. As her lips lay upon his thumb Mort reached for the back of her neck. He gently pulled her to him. After another affectionate embrace followed by a vehement kiss they walked to the stairs holding each other closely.

They made their way upstairs kissing vigorously. The bedroom door blasted open as they came walking though it. They continued to kiss standing in front of the bed. The kissing slowed down and there foreheads came together. Their lips parted. As they looked at each other they only had enough energy to smile. Christine's hands on Mort's shoulders pressed against him making his body back away. She slowly pushed him to the bed where he took a seat. She looked down at him with a smile. He looked up at her with longing eyes. No words were said, but their hearts each were libidos for each other. Her smile soon disappeared from her face. Once again their eyes met and locked.

She backed up a few feet. She came to a stop and slowly began to unbutton her blouse. The top of her blouse came undone revealing a black laced bra. Mort watched her with such a lustful appetite for her he began to feel his erection coming on. Her hair fell over her face as she unbuttoned the last of her blouse. She pulled it back over her shoulders showing her slender stomach then tossed it to the side.

She glanced back up at Mort who was now looking at her with his mouth half opened. As she came slowly toward him Mort leaned against the bed with his hands spread behind him to keep his balance the palms of her hands touched his shoulders. Her eyes glimpsed down at his crotch as she moved she hands slowly to the end of his shirt. She lifted his shirt up from his body then tossed it aside. Mort took her by the waist pulling her gently over top of him. His hands brushed against her smooth back as her hands held tightly on his arms. Their lips pressed against each others lips in such as way their passion for each other could be felt.

The room was silent except for their breathing. Between them it was the only thing they could hear. Mort had rolled over top of Christine as they lay at an angle on the bed. Within a few minuets Christine could not hear nor only paid attention to. There was a noise that wasn't theirs coming from a far. It was a kind of moaning as if they were having an orgasm. It sounded good for the other person, but it was ruining Christine's enthusiasm for their night of intimacy

"Mort." she whispered. "Do you hear that?" Mort who was kissing her neck who hadn't been paying much attention to anything else besides how to get his crock out of his pants stopped. He lifted his lips from her neck that he just began kissing and looked up at her. She was listening to the sound she had heard to come back again. The room fell silent.

"Hear what?" Mort asked

"Listen." she replied. They listened for the sound. Neither of them heard a thing. Christine began to think she was just hearing things. The noise might have been her imagination all along. She gave Mort a look that allowed him to continue. He gently kissed neck again. His hands began to make their way toward her breasts. Just then as she least expected the moaning started up again only louder. This time they both heard it.

"Did you hear that?" Christine asked. Mort stopped in his place with his hands below her chest.

"Yea I did." Mort said. They exchanged a puzzled look. It was only a few hours ago these people couldn't hate each other more. Mort lifted his weight from Christine onto his own feet. He walked over to the window. It was open. He looked through it knowing it only overlooked the top of the house (not that he expected to see anything anyway) next door. The large dark house was gloomy and gave you a feel of it being haunted during the night. At any time Mort could feel the overwhelming discomfort for the house.

"Sounds like our new neighbors made up." Mort said with his eye still fixed upon the house. Suddenly his words seemed to have a lasting effect on him. Marta was married. The women he had been spending his nights with all along was a lie. He could never be with her and she could never be with him. Yet that didn't stop him from acting on his feelings for her. Now the guilt he felt for cheating on Christine was tripled that he not only cheated on her with a beautiful women, but a married women.

Of course he didn't know she was married. How does someone neglect to tell someone that their married? She didn't just forget. She seemed to be pretty happy with her husband. So was the fight they had earlier about him? Maybe her husband found out that Marta went out to dinner with him the other night. Still the situation seemed pretty suspicious for them to have made up this soon. Could it possibly some weird sex game they played to keep the marriage alive? Suddenly Mort felt angered by the idea that she used him.

Mort looked over back over at Christine who was waiting for him anxiously on the bed. Why did he cheat when all he had was right here? He could move on now that he knew he would never cheat again. But that didn't stop the guilt from going away.

"I have to tell you something." Mort said shutting the window.

"Can't it wait?" Christine asked getting off the bed and walking towards the window. Mort stood there and looking back at the house. Should he tell her? It would however change their relationship forever. And for what? Something he would forever regret that probably wasn't even worth telling Christine for. Yet you're supposed to be honest in a relationship. On the other hand this could be carried with him in their relationship forever if he didn't say something. This memory of guilt following him around everywhere he went. Whether he liked to or not he had to tell her.

Christine came from behind him and wrapped her arms around him. He could feel the warmth of her body and he touch of her lips on his back. She caressed his neck with her lips. Mort could feel her teeth on his ear. She knew that it made him go weak in the knees. It was then he knew it could wait.

The next morning Christine awoke from the ringing of a phone. Her cell phone. The phone tucked away in the old black purse she carried around everywhere she went. She reached into the purse that had been on the nightstand during the night. Her body half way out of bed she held the phone up to her ear and answered it. "Hello." she said.

Meanwhile Mort had also been awoken up by the cell phone. He awoke on his back from her dream he had just had. A dream in which he only remembered the few seconds he saw of before his eyes opened. In those few seconds it started off with him saying goodbye to Christine. He was holding her hand so she would go without a kiss. They kissed each other goodbye on the cheek. In the dream he didn't want her to leave. All he wanted was for her to stay with him in the warm sunlight of the early morning laying in bed all day long. It wasn't something he'd normally ask for.

Then Christine of course said she needed to go to work. This angered him. It was as if she wanted to go to work rather than being with him. Mort was guilty of feeling this way in real life but the dream greatly increased that feeling. A lonely unwanted feeling like when you feel when you know your being used or left out of something because no one wants you. The same thing could be said of a kid who was jealous of their new baby sister or brother. Their parents raving over the new baby they neglect their other child. Mort was that neglected child.

In the dream it angered him even more. He become furious with her. His loose grip on her hand tightened. The next he knew she was outside and free from his grasp. She began to cry out in pain. She held her stomach where a large amount of blood was gushing out onto the porch. Soon her cries stopped. Her face became pale. Blood exuded down her legs, her skirt drenched in blood, and then Mort came to realize she was being stabbed repeatedly in the stomach.

Her cries returned. This time it was louder. Mort came to realize that the cries were not coming from Christine, but somewhere else. From someone else. Mort knew she was in agony but he was impotent to helping her. This made cold tears fall from his eyes. They slowly walked upon his face and down to his cheeks. Christine was dieing. The screams had gotten louder. She fell to the floor in deep agony she rolled onto her back. Blood immediately came oozing out from the sides of her mouth but she was not the only one in agony but Mort was too for he was now holding the bloody knife in his hand. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the blood surrounding him he woke up in a cold sweat.

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A/N: I hope you're enjoying the story so far. And I hope you're thinking it's way different from any fanfiction you've ever read. If you have any questions leave a review and I'll be sure to answer it. And personal comments are fine, even if you think it sucks share it with me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Mort . . . Mort?" Christine said hovering over Mort as he lay in bed with a shocked expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

Mort's mouth felt too dry to answer. It took him a moment to clear his throat. He wasn't sure how it looked to Christine. Maybe she thought he was chocking, but all she did was look down at him with worried eyes. She had been wearing his navy blue shirt that fit her like a mini dress. The sleeves went down past her hands and the bottom came down only to her thighs when she walked. For if she would have dropped something and bent over Mort would be in for a treat.

"I just had a nightmare, that's all." he said in a low voice after he finally got his throat cleared enough to speak. "No worries."

"You look so pale. That must have been some nightmare."

"The worst." Mort replied. "Excuse me I'm going to get something to drink." Mort got up from the bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen only wearing his briefs. When he got there he got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with some water. Three seconds later he finished his glass of water. He quickly placed it in the sink and walked back upstairs. He entered the bedroom to see Christine getting dressed back into her clothes.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked walking over to her.

"I'm afraid so--that was work." she said buttoning up her blouse that she had just taken off not long ago.

"Oh." Mort sighed. He sat on the bed and watched her get dressed.

"Yea they need me to come in the look over the last few chapters of a book."

"Cant they get someone else to do it?" Mort asked.

"No." she snapped. "It's my client. Plus I'm in the process of getting a promotion."

"A promotion? You just got a promotion."

"I know. But it makes me so happy now that my work is finally getting some recognition. And if I get this promotion your looking at the new chief editor of Robert & Steven Publishers." she said now starting to put on her make up. Mort sat silent for a moment as she finished putting the last of her lip stick on. Then a few minutes more as she put on her eyeliner and eye shadow. She finished her look with some blush and perfume she kept in her purse. He walked her out to her car remaining silent

He couldn't get the image of Christine dead in his dream. The horror of that moment will haunt is dreams for a long time. But why did he dream it? Was it metaphor of what he really felt? That deep inside somewhere he wanted her dead in some way for some unknown reason. No the last he wanted was for Christine to be out of his life.

He dreaded the day he would have to live without her. Still it didn't stop him from cheating. Maybe that was what he needed. He needed another women to come into his life for him to realize that he really did love Christine. Could the dream also be the guilt getting to him? A metaphor for what he's doing to Christine.

Christine stopped to unlock her car. Mort stopped just behind her still thinking about the terrible dream he just had. Then she turned to him.

"I have to go to New York for a few days. I'll be back on Saturday."

It was prefect. Christine would be out of the way for a few days for him to get his head together.

"Oh, don't go I'll miss you too much." Mort replied.

"How about if I bring you back a souvenir."

"Is that a promise?" Mort asked.

"Give me a kiss goodbye and it will be." The moment the words left her mouth Mort kissed her tenderly on her soft lips. Then he watched her car drive away until it was out of sight.

The following day Mort awoke to the blaring sound of the phone ringing. He reached for the phone which was on the coffee table from the night before when he talked to Christine. They didn't talk for very long just a few minutes before Mort began to fall asleep from staying up almost all night the previous night. He had been working on his story since Christine left. He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear.

"Hello?" Mort answered roughly.

"Hello, Mort." It was Marta. What was she calling for? She was the last person he wanted to hear from. On top of that she sounded as if nothing was wrong.

"What do you want Marta?" Mort asked.

"You to meet me South of Chesney, Street number 53, 5330." Marta said. Before Mort could reply she was gone. Mort placed the receiver back on its holder.

Meet her at South of Chesney? Mort wasn't entirely sure of his way around Chesney, but he knew how to get there. Chesney was a larger town next to Tashmore Lake. It was about a forty-five minute drive from Tashmore give or take with traffic. But why did Marta want him to meet her there? Most likely she didn't know that he knew about his knowing about her marriage. A secret she kept well hidden until two nights ago.

Mort didn't want to be part of whatever game she was playing with him. He didn't want anything to do with her anymore let alone want to meet her. So it's decided; he wouldn't go. But if he didn't go would she just keep calling. Perhaps when Christine came and caught Mort talking to her. Maybe he should go after all. Just to break his ties with her. Tell her it's over for good.

With that Mort headed to Chesney.

Within an hour he had arrived in Chesney at 53rd street just as Marta instructed him to. All he needed to do now was to find the house number. The street was very long and started with 3470. It wasn't as easy as he thought. There was a house on each side of the road and they numbers would go across of the street instead of next to each other. 3471 would be across from 3471 then 3472 would be next to 3471, etc. He drove straight down the long road what seemed to take longer then driving to Chesney . . . 5325 . . . 5326 . . . 5327 . . .

He was inching his way towards the house. He came to the end of the street and still no 5330. Then in the back of the road he spotted another road. Apparently it wasn't the end of the road. There it was a long road, but no houses. Mort followed the road which took him about five minutes to see 5328 which was right on the beach to his left. And finally 5330.

It was a large beachouse which Mort found to be a beautiful sight. It had three floors with balconies that went all the way around the front of the house. The long driveway curved in front of the house facing the ocean. The roof was shaped like large triangle and contained large windows that overlooked the clear as the sky ocean as well as full length windows on each floor open to see into the house. There was no walkway need to get to the beach due to the fact it was literally right on the beach. It was marvelous.

Mort pulled up in the driveway and turned off the car. He stepped out of the car. It was such a calming atmosphere with the wind and the waves crashing against the shore. But Mort wasn't going to get distracted from his surroundings. He knew what he came here to do which all went away when he finally stepped inside.

He entered the house through two large wooden doors. He had knocked on the door and Marta had called for him to let himself in. Inside he first noticed the high ceilings and elegant hardwood floors. It was one giant room containing the living room and the kitchen. The furniture was all white while all the tables in the room were black including side tables, the coffee table, and the kitchen table. The kitchen was in the back of the room away from the massive size windows leading out on the balcony.

Mort found himself walking towards the end of the living room towards the window. As he got closer he realized that in the middle of window were glass doors that would open up to the balcony. He glanced out at the ocean and seemed to forget about his worries. But the ocean wasn't calming at all. But represented life. It can be something you spend a sunny summer afternoon playing in and then turn into something dangerous. Yet it made him think about the touch of a woman and the soft touch of Christine's warm hands against his chest, the soft kiss against his lips, and the warmth of her body as she lay next to him.

Suddenly the sound of Marta's shoes on the hardwood floor brought him back to reality. Mort quickly turned around seeing Marta walking towards him. He knew if he wanted to keep Christine he would have to let Marta go. But to add to his problems Marta was wearing an alluring red dress that came down just above the knees. It was a dress that made eyes and her body just pop. He found her eyes were what attracted him in the first place. Those big beautiful brown eyes that always lite up a room the kind that never showed sorrow, only happiness. But then again not only had she had wonderful eyes, but a killer body. The kind a man would give up anything for just to touch it.

"Isn't it muy espectacular?" she asked admiring the house while Mort was admiring her dress. She was smiling happily at Mort. He could tell she was pleased to see him. Mort couldn't help, but think that she was the spectacular one. But he didn't come here to admire how stunning she looked in a sexy dress.

"We need to talk, Marta." Mort said in a serious tone. Her smile slowly disappeared from her face.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" Mort continued to ask. To his surprise she was smiling again. A question mark went up in his head for a moment. Did she not understand he was about to dump her?

"Come with me." Marta said taking Mort by the hand and leading him into the other room. As she turned around he noticed that the back of her dress tied in the back showing off her shoulder blades and lower back. To keep up the surprises she lead him upstairs to a pitch black room. He wasn't sure if he should keep following her or turn and run.

When they reached the top of the stairs Marta turned on the lights revealing an entire room full of art. There were paintings from left to right covering every inch of the place. Mort looked around to notice the different paintings of people, landscapes, and flowers. Many of the paintings were unframed and looked like they had just been finished. There was one that caught his eye; a silhouette of a city on water with a purplish-red sky. What made the painting so intriguing was the realism of the water.

Then he saw it; a large painting of a village. With bright colors it helped bring out the beautiful painting of a village. It was set in the daytime with children playing in the background and people going on with their daily lives. A long road went through the middle of the painting as far as the eye could see. As well as old fashioned style houses making the village look like a fairytale like as if it took place somewhere in the sky. Yes the sky was most intriguing thing that was in the painting and all done on a piece of fence.

"What is all this?" Mort asked completely overwhelming by his surroundings.

"You asked to see my gallery and here it is." Marta replied coming up from behind Mort was now standing in front of the painting.

"Let's celebrate." Marta suggested as she brought out champagne from behind her. Mort turned towards her and saw the champagne. She brought it over to a metal table beside them and set it down. Mort followed her to the table. He knew it was time to break the news. It was now or never.

"What are we celebrating?" Mort continued to ask.

"You're the first person to see my gallery." Marta answered as she begun pouring the champagne into two glasses.

"Even before your husband?" Mort asked. Marta stopped pouring for a moment. She looked away as if she were trying to hide something. Then as if nothing happened she took both glasses into her hands and handed one to Mort.

"You didn't think I'd find out did you?" Mort asked refusing to take the glass. Marta kept insisting Mort take the glass.

"How can you just forget to tell someone you're married?!" Mort yelled. He took the glass from Marta's grip and slammed them down hard enough for some champagne to spill out on the table beside them. Marta didn't step away instead she stood there watching Mort have his tantrum.

"Did the night we spent together mean nothing?! I'm not some toy you can just throw around! And I don't appreciate being used like that, Marta!" Mort shouted now looking Marta in the eyes.

Just then Mort thought of the other night when they had their first date. He really felt something for her in that moment when they kissing in the parking lot. He wasn't expecting to be feeling something for her now. Mort came here to tell her off and leave happy, but suddenly he wasn't so happy. Marta just kept looking at him with her seductive brown eyes he had to look away.

"Are you done?" she asked approaching him closer. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Mort kept his hands tight against his legs to keep from wrapping his arms around her. Her body was so close Mort felt her warm body against his body.

She leaned in towards his left ear and whispered, "You forget we all have secrets." As soon as the words left her mouth they seemed to send chills down his spine. What did she know about him?

Marta slowly began to press her lips against the skin between the end of the jaw and the ear. Mort could feel her soft lips on his neck. He took a deep breath.

"I can't see you anymore, Marta." Mort said. Marta pulled her arms from around his neck and placed them on her hips.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Mort." she said walking away from Mort and towards the table. She took her glass of champagne and sipped it slowly.

"But you forget . . . I'm not the only one with another lover."

Shockingly she was right. All this time Mort never considered the fact that he also cheated. Coming here to make Marta feel guilty when he himself forgotten his own guilt. Marta watched as Mort was simply lost for words. She brought him over some champagne which didn't take him long to finish.

"Thanks." Mort said handing the empty glass back to Marta.

"You know I've never seen someone gulp champagne down that quickly. I'm not sure anyone would ever want to." Marta said putting both glasses back on the table. Then she walked back over to Mort.

"You must really dislike me."

Surprised by her words Mort's eyes widened. Not only was standing very close, but she put her hands around his neck. This was not how he pictured this evening to go. He didn't expect it to be so hard to dump her. They spent one evening together and now it felt as if they've been together for years.

"Not at all." Mort replied. Marta smiled at him. In that moment he wanted to kiss her. She was so beautiful and she was right there. He looked into her eyes. They were full of excitement and life. Mort slowly wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. For a moment he found himself leaning in towards her. It was as if he had no control over his body. His lips got closer until they finally touched.

In that blissful moment he could only think of one thing; Marta. The way she moved when she walked, her long soft pitch black hair surrounding him, and how he adored the sound of her accent. He also found it pleasing that she was kissing him back. The taste of her kiss was much like the other night, full of passion and seductiveness.

Her kiss wasn't like Christine's kiss in the sense she always kissed Mort quickly and was done. With Marta she took her time and kissed Mort softly. Marta loved to run her fingers through Mort's hair and grab a hold of his neck almost forcing him against her. This excited Mort. It was something different he'd never realized he would enjoy. Marta proceeded to kiss him with one hand running though his hair and the other on the back of his neck.

Slowly their lips parted. They opened their eyes to see each other for a moment then immediately went back to making out. Mort could feel Marta bringing her hands down to his chest. Her kiss was getting faster by the minute. Mort brought himself closer to Marta now as he felt the tip of Marta's tongue in his mouth. She must have known she was arousing him for she would push him away when he got closer then pulled him back when he put his hands down. Mort not at all put off by it kept trying to put his arms around her.

Mort put his hands on her back and like a chain reaction Marta pushed his chest to back him away. She came closer to him and began kissing him again. Before he knew it he was up against the cold cement wall. Marta gave him one last final push up against the wall which separated them from each other. Then she pressed onto him roughly and kissed him hard. Mort put his hands on her back not knowing what she was going to do if he did. To his surprise she didn't do anything. Maybe she didn't notice.

Just then Marta gently bit his lip. It was clear that she noticed. Mort dropped his arms to his side. She kissed him again slowly lowering her hands to his stomach. Mort gave in and stopped trying to wrap his arms around her. He kissed her slowly and softly. He kissed her faster as a few more minutes passed them by. He didn't care how long they were in the room kissing on another. All that mattered was that they had that moment.

Without realizing it Mort noticed that Marta had begun to take off his belt. She took it off and whipped it against the floor. She was smiling playfully at Mort who was laughing a little. She looked at him with her entrancing eyes. Tossing the belt off to the side she kissed him again. It was clear that Marta was in complete control. That she was using his negative energy he had come here with to bring the sexual side of him out. She was just acting like she was pushing him away just to make him want her more. Mort was entirely under her spell.

Mort awoke between the sheets of the most comfortable bed hes ever had the pleasure of sleeping in. In fact it was the best night sleep hes had in months. The first time he'd slept the entire night without having brutal nightmares interrupt his dreams. Mort slowly opened his eyes to see the clock that read 10:30 a.m. on the nightstand beside him. He had spent the night over Marta's house. This was far from what he predicted would happen.

Once again his emotions got the best of him. _This is not good. What am I going to tell Christine? _Yes Christine! What was he going to tell Christine? He meant to tell her the other about his relationship with Marta, but selfishly decided not to. This was the absolute worst thing he could have done. It started out with a innocent kiss and now this. What exactly is an innocent kiss? Mort kissing Marta wasn't exactly what anyone would call innocent.

Mort glanced around for his clothes. He needed to get out. It was just too much. He knew what he had done would haunt him forever. Images of last night flashed through his mind like a bad dream.

He spotted in underwear on the floor beside him. He picked them up and slipped them on under the covers. Mort got out of the bed and searched the room the rest of his clothes. They weren't anywhere in sight. He looked on the floor, under the covers, and even under the bed. Just as he felt like he should give up he spotted the rest of his clothes on the arm chair a few feet away from the bed. Marta must have put them there. He quickly walked towards the chair and picked up his jeans.

"Good morning sleepy head." A voice said from behind him. Startled Mort jumped as he turned to see Marta entering the room wearing only a KISS T-shirt and boy shorts. She was carrying a large mug in her hands as she walked closer towards Mort.

"I made you some coffee." She said handing Mort the mug. Mort reached out his hand and took the mug from Marta. He took sip. The steaming hot liquid ran down his throat and warmed his body. He sighed with satisfaction. Marta could make a hell of a cup of coffee. He placed the mug down on the nightstand beside him as he started to put on his jeans.

"So I was thinking." Marta began now taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I show you the rest of my paintings, then we get some wine and have a picnic lunch on the beach and gossip about everyone we know."

Mort's heart seemed to stop beating. Without realizing it he got himself into another relationship. He looked at her sitting there on the bed. She looked so beautiful. How could he say no? But he can't let his weaknesses get to him. It's already got him in enough trouble already.

"I have to go." he said now putting on his belt.

"We don't have to gossip." Marta joked. This was going to be harder then he thought.

"No . . . it's not that."

"Then what is it?" Marat asked. She stood up and walked over behind Mort. Then she wrapped her arms around just as she had done last night. Mort finished putting on his belt and turned around to face Marta.

"Look last night was . . . great, but . . . I can't do this. You're married and my girlfriend is coming back in town on Saturday--."

"Then we have till Saturday." Marta insisted. She looked at him with longing eyes. She wanted him to stay. Mort couldn't think of a reason not to besides the obvious reason of him being involved with another woman. For that he had to think of something.

"I don't have any clothes to last me three days." Mort said reaching for his shirt.

"I'll take care of that. I could go into town and buy you some clothes." Marta walked across the room. She put on a pair of jeans and stepped into some black knee-high boots that she put over the jeans.

"That's not necessary." Mort said. He followed her into the other room that connected with the bedroom. It was the same room that surrounded them with all her paintings. Mort watched as she got her purse and coat together.

She walked over him and gave him a peck on the lips. "I'll be back soon."

With that she was out the door. Mort stood there until he heard her car pull out of the driveway. He watched from a window in front of him as Marta turned onto the road. She had left him their half naked in her house with nothing to do expect wait for her return. But Mort knew he had a decision to make. He could leave or he could stay.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Here is Chapter 6 I hope you enjoy it and thanks very much for the review.

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Chapter 6

The salt in the air made him want to take a deep breath. For it was so delightful. It seemed like the only way he could capture the moment was to just breathe. And he loved that. That's what made being on a beach so wonderful. Not to mention having an incredibly attractive women laying beside him. They were sipping wine with only the clouds to watch them. The wind brushed against his skin as he kissed the soft lips of the women next to him.

It was now mid-afternoon and they had spent the entire day under the sun (which was one of the reasons he was glad he stayed). It was moments after Marta had left the house when he realized it. That he wanted to stay. He pictured himself leaving of course; driving an hour back to Tashmore as everyone gave him those I-know-what-you-did-you-psycho looks and arrive home to an empty house only to fall asleep on an old couch. Exciting--no. Depressing and pathetic--yes.

Why turn away from something that made him feel great for the first time since Amy? Yes he had Christine, but did he love Christine? Did he love Marta? For now the only thing he knew was that he could love Marta. So he was here wearing a new and very comfortable shirt Marta had just bought him.

"Tell me about her." Marta said as she took a sip of whine.

"About who?" Mort asked also taking a sip of wine. He was quite thirsty after almost twenty minutes of making out and this being the first time they came up for air.

"Your girlfriend." Marta replied.

"You're joking."

"No. I want to you tell me."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why? You scared I'll be jealous?"

"No . . . because I want to kiss you until we can't kiss each other anymore." Mort answered desperately trying to change the subject. Marta smiled and they began kissing again. But Mort couldn't help, but wonder why didn't it bother her that he had a girlfriend?

Marta climbed on top of Mort kissing him softly. Mort fell back on the blanket they laid down on. She took hold of him by the hands and gently held them down by his side. He could smell her perfume he was so close to her. Her hair fell around her face and tickled Mort's cheeks just as it had last night.

After she took off his belt they made their way to the bedroom, which turned out to be connected to the room she brought him to. From all the things that went through his mind the smell of her perfume and taste of her lips was what he remembered the most. The room was dark with only the light from the stars for them to see. There in the darkness he knew he felt something different. Not an overwhelming desire to take off his clothes, but to be able to smell her perfume and taste her kiss for as long as he lived.

For that he was glad he stayed. Mort closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Marta let go of his hands. She raced her hands down his body. Mort lay there as she began to unbuckle his belt. When she successfully unbuckled it she looked up. Did she want to do it right here? Now? On the beach?

She smiled at him. He smiled back giving the okay to unzip his pants. Never in his life had he met someone more exciting, someone so thrilling and sexy at the same time. Never in his life had he met someone like Marta. Never in his life had he felt like this.

* * *

"This is wonderful. Seriously this is magnificent." Mort said taking another bite of Marta's famous fettuccini alfredo.

"I'm glad you like it." Marta replied.

"Where did you learn to make this?" Mort asked. They were having dinner quietly just the two of them. They sat beside each other, Mort at the end and Marta on his left facing the opposite way of the kitchen. Marta had insisted that she get some fresh wine from the cellar for dinner leaving Mort waiting alone in the kitchen. She seemed to take days what was really twenty minutes.

He could hear the rumbles in his stomach signaling how hungry he was. Staring at the food made his mouth water. With that he took the fork in his hand and dug it into the fettuccini. When he got some on wrapped around the fork he took a bite. He chewed his food with absolute satisfaction. The dinner had hit his taste buds in all the right places.

After coming in from the beach around five-thirty they seat down for about an hour and watched TV. By the time House was over Marta asked Mort if he were hungry. As Mort followed her into the kitchen she offered to make him dinner. He was never one to pass a chance at a home cooked meal so he agreed to let her make him dinner.

"I'll make you my famous fettuccini alfredo." She said getting her ingredients together.

"Sounds good." Mort replied. He watched her as she got out a large metal pot and placed it in the sink and fill it half way with water. Then she placed the pot on top of the stove. She turned the stove to boil the water. It was just a matter of time till the water boiled so she got the ingredients she needed for the alfredo sauce. She got out a blender and put the measured amount of ingredients into it then turned the blender on mixing all the ingredients together. When that she done she placed it into another pan on the stove.

She also added some chicken into the sauce apparently left over from her pervious dinner a few nights before. By this time the water in the pot was boiling. She placed the fettuccini in the pot and let it boil. She passed the time by staying by the sauce and mixing it more to absorb the flavor of the chicken into the sauce. Mort found himself smiling as he watched her. Not even when he was married to Amy did her see someone cook quite as elegantly as she did.

Everything was made from scratch and to her perfection. She almost looked like she should have her own cooking show on the food network. She was so concentrated on her cooking she didn't even notice Mort watching her. Marta put the spoon she was stirring the sauce with down as she began to stir the pasta in the pot. Mort couldn't believe he was here. He couldn't believe that she was letting him stay in such an extravagant house with her. He went to meeting her in the movie theater to this. He never pictured he'd be here when he asked her out that night.

To tell the truth he thought that she would turn him down; this beautiful endearing women and Mort? But she didn't. She let him in. For that he appreciated her. Still he couldn't believe they had just made love on the beach. Everyone has fantasies about making love on the beach, but only a few actually get to experience it.

Marta was still focused on her cooking. Mort stood up from the table and walked over to her. Marta dipped the spoon into the sauce. Slow she brought the spoon up to her lips when Mort wrapped his arms around her midsection. Started she dropped the spoon into the sauce.

"Mort!" she shouted. She reached down into the sauce and pulled out the long metal spoon.

"That smells good." Mort said giving her a peck on lips. "Can I have a taste?"

"Not until it's finished." Marta said.

"Come on. Just one little taste." Mort begged. But Marta wasn't giving in. He had to try something different. Suddenly he began brushing his lips against her neck. Marta giggled as she stirred the food. This made Mort smile so he continued to tickle her. Marta shrugged her shoulders to keep him from tickling her neck. She put the spoon down next to the stove.

To his surprise she turned around wrapping her arms around him just as she did the other night and kissed him. This made him think of when he made her giggle by kissing her neck the previous night. He kissed her from her neck all the way down her naked body to her stomach as he knew she wanted him to. For she moaned in ecstasy each time his lips pressed against her skin.

Marta parted from Mort bringing him out of his daydreaming. She always knew how to leave him wanting more. He loved the way she kissed him. It was as if each time they kissed it would be their last.

"Now go sit down it's almost ready." she said picked up the large pot and carrying to the sink. She poured the pasta into a drainer letting all the hot water go down the drain. She cleaned the pasta with some water before placing it into a large bowl. Mort stood there watching her move swiftly around the kitchen to prepare dinner.

"Let me help you." Mort insisted. Marta looked up at him with a smile.

"Okay . . . you can set the table." Marta instructed. She handed Mort the dishes and silverware to place on the table. Mort did has she asked placing the dishes and silverware in their proper places. Marta started her way over to the kitchen table holding the large bowl of fettuccini alfredo. That's when Mort's stomach started growling. The warm smell of the steaming bowl made his mouth water.

Though when he looked at Marta he wasn't sure if it were the food being placed in front of him or Marta. She had put on a blue v-neck dress that made her look longer and leaner. It came down just below her knees and she had on a sexy pair of black stiletto heals that Mort could tell from his years or marriage that they were probably hurting her feet. But like any beautiful women she did a wonderful job or hiding it.

She was being so good to him, Mort thought as he waited patiently for Marta to sit down and join him for dinner. She had already clean up the kitchen like all great cooks do they clean up as they cook putting things away when they're done leaving less to clean up afterwards.

"You know what this dinner needs?" Marta asked as she walked towards Mort.

"You to join me in eating it." Mort replied.

"Some wine . . . I'll run down to the cellar and get some." she said now heading to the end of the room. She unlocked thick wooden door and entered. Mort waited patiently at the table for Marta to return when his hunger got the best of him. He got his fork and dug it into the pasta taking a bite of it at the moment Marta returned carrying a large bottle of white wine.

"I'm glad you like it." Marta had said. Mort's eyes were fixed on her as she popped open the bottle and brought to the table. As she got closer Mort realized it wasn't a bottle of wine at all.

"Is that tequila?" Mort asked smiling. He was surprised that she brought out tequila for they've been drinking red wine ever since he got here. On the other hand he hasn't had tequila in a very long time . . . since . . . his wedding.

"Yes." she said pouring it into his cocktail glass.

"I didn't take you for the kind that drinks this stuff." Mort said.

"It was my father's favorite drink I always drink some in his memory . . . and when I want to get loose every now and then." she said finally taking a seat next to Mort. She rose up her glass.

"A toast."

Mort raised his glass up to Marta's.

"To lasting memories." she said.

"Cheers." Mort replied as they touched their glasses together then each took a sip of their drink. Mort placed his glass down next to him and continued to eat. Marta watched him as she sipped her drink.

"Why don't you tell me about more about your family?" Mort suggested.

"What you want to know?" Marta asked.

"Everything. Start from the beginning."

Marta looked at Mort with utter shock. A man asking a woman to tell them about their life doesn't exactly happen everyday. At least her husband never asked her about her family. _Maybe I should cook him dinner more often._

"Um . . . where do I start . . . I was born in Madrid. My father's side of the family was somewhat poor as for my mother's side which was all upper class. But she loved my father anyway. They met in a theatre where my father first saw my mother dance. My mother was a dancer--classically train in all the finest schools. And they ended up getting married and having my two sisters and I as well as my two younger brothers . . . but my father was determined to prove to my mother's family especially my grandfather that he could make it as a writer. And he did.

My mother was a magnificent dancer. She would teach us to dance everyday after school. We loved it. My oldest sister, Elena took after my mother and became a famous dancer. She and her husband perform in shows all over Spain, Columbia, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, and Peru. Mercedes, my second oldest sister teaches dance to her students at a classical art school while my younger brothers, Carlos and Miguel are actors."

"Wow is everyone in your family famous?" Mort asked.

"You could say that . . . you know she spent her whole life dancing and not once did she yell or scream at us when she was teaching us how to dance no matter how terrible we were at dancing." Marta laughed.

"She sounds like great women." Mort said laughing along with her.

"She was." Marta agreed. Suddenly the laughing stopped. Mort looked at Marta with sorrow in his eyes. He could tell talking about her mother brought her back to sad memories. At the same time it showed a new side of Marta he's never seen before.

"I'm sorry." Mort said.

"Don't be." Marta replied. "I'm not."

"How long ago was it?" Mort asked.

"Um . . . about three years ago shortly after I got married."

Mort's thoughts went from the topic to her mother's death to her being married. He seemed to have forgotten about that little detail last night, on the beach, and even now. Three years of marriage and it was already going sour. He didn't know how long his marriage was like this.

"Anyway enough about me what about you?" Marta asked changing the subject.

"What about me?"

"Were you ever married?" she asked. This was quite unexpected. He sort of trained himself not to talk about Amy. For he wasn't sure how he would handle it.

"That was long time ago." Mort laughed as he tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"Come on, tell me about her." Marta continued to insist.

Mort picked up his glass and noticed it was empty. "You know this stuff is actually better then I remember."

"You're never going to get over her if you don't talk about it." Marta said with a little frustration in her voice. Mort didn't want to make her angry with him, but at the same time he couldn't talk about his ex-wife in front of a woman he was having casual sex with. He thought he could hide his past from his future and therefore never have to revisit it. On the other hand he could talk about it and get it off his chest all of that anger he held for Amy inside of him. Still he never told anybody not even Nina about Amy. Why should he choose to tell Marta?

"We met at a book auction in New York . . . we were both fresh out of college." Mort said.

"So it was your first marriage?" Marta asked.

"Yes--why how many times have you been married?"

"Don't change the subject! Continue."

"We got married and everyone was okay with each other. She had a great family and they put up with my family." Mort joked. Marta smiled at him. Surprisingly he felt comfortable confessing his to Marta. He continued.

"We understood each other you know? We could communicate on a level that was so passed anything psychical. We moved to the suburbs down in New York which may seem like the mediocre thing to do, but it was a place we could live happily together. And we did for the next ten years . . . until one day she decided that she didn't want it anymore."

Mort could hear his voice becoming rougher. He hadn't thought about that night since Amy had disappeared. Marta reached over and took his hand and squeezed it tightly to let him know that she was there for him. All the suppressed feelings he had for Amy appeared on his face. He never wanted to revisit those feeling of anguish.

Marta loosened her grips on Mort's hand. She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator placing the bottle of tequila inside it. He looked down at the half eaten bowl fettuccini alfredo not wanting another bite. He reached for his glass of tequila and gulped the rest it down.

"You know what you need?" Marta asked turning on some salsa music.

"What?" Mort asked placing the empty glass on the table.

"To dance." Marta replied. He looked up to see Marta moving along with the music. She raised her hands above her head and faced her body sideways towards Mort. Moving her hips back and forth she made her way over to Mort.

"Oh, no." Mort said laughing. When she came within arms reach of Mort, she began to move back towards the other side of the room. As she did she lowered the arm facing Mort and made a come hither gesture. Her hair fell around her face while her eyes were fixed on Mort. She lowered both hands down to her dress and shook it back and forth while moving her hips from side to side keeping up with the rhythm.

Mort stood up from his seat and walked over to Marta. She was twirling around the living floor moving her hips in a circular motion. Mort watched as she did this foot move which she moved her feet rapidly across the floor. Moving the bottom half of her body from side to side she began her way towards him. Almost close enough to touch she twirled around a complete three-sixty and landed gracefully into Mort's arms.

Mort took her by the waist and she took him by the shoulders. She raced her arms down to his chest and pushed against him making him walk backwards. With an intense glare she kept eye contact with Mort. Suddenly she stopped and raised her arms up to his shoulders. She twirled around him in circles as Mort kept perfectly still watching her every move. She kept twirling behind him until she was at his other side. She was holding Mort's hands and he stood motionless in front of her.

Suddenly with the back of her leg she reached under Mort's leg and brushed him against his crotch. In that brief moment Mort was pleasantly shocked by what Marta had just done. As the music slowly down to softer melody Marta and Mort got closer together. They held each other tightly. Mort held her as she leaned far back as if she were made of rubber and lifted her leg high above Mort's head.

As she bent over Mort reached out and brushed his hand gently down her cleavage. Mort brought her back up slowly. They looked deeply into each other's eyes and moved their lips closer together. Mort could feel her warm breath on his neck. Something about holding her and looking into her eyes made him go weak in the knees. She brushed her lips against the side of his mouth and kissed him softly.

Their lips parted and they continued to slow dance on the hardwood floor of the living room. Marta broke away from Mort's arms and made her way towards the music player that set upon the entertainment center. Mort watched her dance solo facing her back to him. She played with her dress and ran her hands down her body so elegantly he could watch her dance all night.

But Mort wanted to more of her then to just watch her dance. Suddenly a new confidence merged from deep inside him. He found himself walking over to Marta and grabbing her arm. He spun her around to face him and reached up to the back of her neck. He pulled her to his lips and gave her the most passionate kiss she has ever gotten.

Marta took his spontaneity a step further and pushed him onto the couch. Mort fell to his back onto the couch smiling up at Marta. She knelt on the floor and began climbing her way towards Mort. She started at his stomach and reached out her hands digging her fingernail into his shirt as she crawled up his body. Mort placed his hands around her waist as she got on top of him. With one hand he slicked her hair back behind her ear revealing more of her face and a better opening to her lips.

She leaned in and their lips touch once again. Mort could feel her massaging his tongue with hers. Their kissing became faster. The hair he had pushed back behind her ear he fallen around his face and tickled his skin. When they slowed their kissing down to a stop he opened his eyes. Never has he seen something more beautiful then the image of Marta over top of him with her hair around he face.

"Bedroom?" she asked as if she were out of breath.

"Yea." Mort replied in the whispery voice.

"I'll get the tequila." Marta said and quickly got up from Mort and ran to the kitchen. Mort followed her to the kitchen to see Marta open the refrigerator door and pull out the bottle of tequila. Then she opened the cabinet doors and pulled out two glasses. She walked over to Mort who was standing next to the kitchen table. She poured some tequila into the glasses and placed the bottle on the table. She handed one glass to Mort. She held her glass up and Mort held to hers.

"To lasting memories." Marta said. They clinged their glasses together and then drank all the liquid inside their glasses.

"How about we make a memory right now?" Mort asked. Marta's eyes widen as Mort knocked everything that was on the table onto the floor. All the dishes, the food, and even the table cloth. Marta looked at the mess on the floor for a moment silently. Mort couldn't tell whether she was turned on or completely turned off. But he had a feeling she wasn't exactly turned on. How stupid could he have been to think she would want to have sex on the kitchen table?

Just as he thought the night was over Marta threw he glasses onto the floor and kissed him. In fact she had run into him so fast they fell back onto the table. Mort lay there on the table with Marta over top of him. Their lips parted and she ripped open his shirt. He smiled at her overjoyed that she wasn't turned off by his spontaneity.

All his feelings he had for her seemed to be overwhelming him by the second. He wanted her and he wanted her now. Slowly he ran his hands up her smooth legs and up her dress. He reached up to her hips and pulled off the smallest pair of panties he's ever seen. He tossed them to the side as Marta quickly unbuckled his belt. She took the belt off and tossed it to the side.

The next thing he knew he was feeling the most intense pleasure of his lifer running throughout his body this incredible sensation that made him moan in ecstasy. He looked up into Marta's eyes. They were radiant. Her body seemed to be on fire as they connected in a way he never thought possible.

His eyes slowly opened to see the early morning light glaring through the windows. The sun was up and the waves were crashing against the shore. He glanced around taking notice of his surroundings. He was in the same bed had woke up in the previous morning. He raised his head to get a better look around the room. Mort turned to his left seeing that everything was in complete chaos. Everything was either on the floor or broken. He could remember everything clear as day.

They came upstairs after they fucked on the kitchen table. The room so pitch black from the night sky Mort couldn't see a thing. Marta kissed him softly as they came closer towards the bed. He loved it when she kissed him like this. Like there was no one else she wanted but him. Her gentle kiss was followed by the infamous lip biting which Mort had gotten used to and quite turned on by.

Marta parted from Mort leaving him standing in the dark for moment waiting for her to return. Suddenly a dim light appeared in front of him. She had turned on the light next bed on the nightstand. Another embrace from Marta and Mort was horny again. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her close. He reached under her dress and he could feel Marta guiding his hand close to her.

To her surprise he lifted her up and forced her against the wall. They didn't even notice they had knocked the lamp onto the floor. Marta kept her balance with one leg on the chair and her hand on the nightstand. Mort lifted her up higher against the wall to where her toes were almost off the floor. Mort's thrusts were so powerful she knocked over the chair when she climaxed.

Mort turned to his right to see Marta sleeping soundlessly beside him. He smiled for he loved that fact that she was beside him when he woke up. Even though she faced her back towards Mort, he knew she looked just as radiant as she did the first time he saw her. Looking at Marta he couldn't help, but have this feeling of butterflies in his stomach. It felt as if her were at home. A home that he used to live a perfect life in with a wife who he loved dearly.

Mort leaned towards Marta. He gently brushed the tips of his fingers up her arm to her shoulder. Marta shifted her body a little to face Mort. Mort watched her as she lay there with closed eyes sleeping peacefully. She was so lovely that he suddenly had the desire to kiss her. Nothing in the world could ruin this moment. Everything was perfect.

* * *

He leaned in towards Marta and gave her a kiss on the forehead. A smile appeared across her face. Her eyes opened slowly to see Mort leaning over her.

"Good morning." she said stretching her arms high above her head.

"Good morning." Mort replied giving her another kiss this time on the lips. Marta brought her arms down and wrapped them around Mort. The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering around inside him so quickly his stomach felt as if it were on fire. It felt so good to be there in Marta's arms. The way she made him feel at home and the taste of her kiss was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

Their lips parted and he stared into her eyes. He knew it was early and Marta wanted to sleep so he rolled back over to his side of the bed. He turned on his side and faced the wall and closed his eyes. A moment later Marta wrapped her arm around Mort. He turned over on his back. Marta scooted over to where she was cuddling beside him with her head on his chest.Mort felt his eyes getting heavy. Before he knew it he was looking at the inside of his eyelids.

As he looked down at Christine's lifeless body he got out a white cloth and wiped the blood off the knife. Satisfied with what he had done he made a slight smirk at his knife. The cries he heard we're louder then ever. No matter much he covered his ears the noise remained the same. If the sobbing gotten any louder he thought he would loose his mind.

But just as he thought he was done for it stopped. Mort slowly moved his hands away from his ears. He glanced up to see Marta approaching him. Mort peered down at his feet noticing the blood streaming between them. He quickly looked back up at Marta. She walked towards him opened her robe revealing her barely there lingerie.

Before she was able to get any closer, Mort's eyes flashed open.

"Mort! Mort! Wake up!" Marta shouted to him. She was shaking him roughly to wake up.

"I'm up." Mort replied. Marta stopped shaking him. Mort watched her as she walked away from the bed and over to the chair which was picked up. Everything was cleaned up from the left side of the room. How long has he been asleep? It didn't matter. Mort's eyes were heavy again and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

Marta immediately started shaking him again. Mort opened his eyes again. She seemed to be in hurry. Maybe she wanted to go again or something.

"Aren't we in a hurry this morning?" Mort asked sitting up.

"Yes." she said tossing Mort his clothes. "Get dressed."

"What's the rush?" Mort continued to ask.

"My husband is coming." Marta answered. Immediately Mort jumped out of bed and got dressed as fast as he could. He slide on his jeans then pulled his shirt over his shoulders. Marta was getting dressed just a few feet away from him.

She slid on a white very moderate looking sweater dress. It covered up most of her body expect for arms and her legs just below her knees. She wrapped a brown belt around her waist to complete the look. It was easy to see that her husband obviously didn't approve of Marta flaunting her body in the way she did when she dressed for Mort.

Mort followed Marta out of the bedroom. For a moment he wanted to be reluctant to leave for he knew Marta was unhappy with her husband. At the same time he knew he had to leave. He couldn't let her husband find him there. Who knows what kind of drama that would cause. Mort wasn't about to be responsible for breaking up a marriage.

"You'll have to hurry out before he gets here." Marta as they walked down the stairs to the living room. Mort continued to follow Marta through the living room. He noticed that the kitchen was also cleaned. All the fettuccini alfredo was picked up off the floor as well as the dishes and silverware.

Marta turned around when they reached the front door. She grabbed his neck and pulled him close. As they kissed Mort couldn't help but think of how much he was going to miss her. She gently bit the tip of his lip and shook her head before she let go.

Mort slid her tongue as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He felt Marta put her arms around his neck. He got a whiff of the delightful smell of her perfume. It was then he knew why he couldn't live without her. Just then Marta reached up and pulled Mort's hair enough to make him pull away.

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"I'll call." she replied. "Now go." she laughed playfully as she pushed him towards the door. Mort walked to the door and opened it. He saw a someone pull up beside his car. His heart dropped. The jig was up. He quickly slammed the door shut.

"What?" Marta asked rushing back over towards Mort.

"I think we have to go to plan B." Mort said. Marta walked over to the window beside the door. She pulled away having the same reaction as Mort.

"Okay . . . you'll have to sneak out the back. I'll distract him."

"What about my car?" Mort asked.

"Don't worry about that, just go." She ran her finger through Mort's hair one last time then headed towards the other room. She smiled up at Mort showing off her glimmering white teeth. Now more then ever Mort couldn't resist that beautiful smile. He pulled her close and gave her a goodbye kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Hey Mort, missed you the other day." Nina said greeting him with a smile. She was pleased to see him so early in the morning. Oddly enough he looked somewhat depressed to see her. He didn't return the smile she greeted him with he only stared down at his feet with a sad look on his face. This worried her. He never looked this melancholy before. Maybe it didn't go so well with Christine.

Mort approached the counter. "Can I have my usual." he asked in a rough voice. Nina fixed him his coffee. She never seen him like this it made it her want to cry.

"Are you alright, Mort? You're lookin' a little blue." she said putting the lid on the coffee cup. "You want to talk about it?" She handed Mort his coffee.

"I can't talk about it here." he said handing her some money.

"Why don't you come over to my apartment later? We can talk there." She gave him his change. Mort opened his mouth to respond. Before he could Nina got out her keys.

"Wait for me there. I'll meet you there in a few hours." she took Mort's hand and gave him her keys. At first Mort wanted to decline her offer, but he need to talk to her. She was the only who knew about Marta and him. Mort placed her keys in his pocket and walked out. He could tell she took it seriously it almost made him feel bad for tricking her. After all what does he have to feel sad about?

He had just spent the passed two days with Marta at her house on the beach. It was the best two days he's had a long time. From the time he left to the second he arrived at Starbucks Marta was on his mind. All he could think about was Marta. He thought about the first time they met. Never in a million and one years did he think someone like Marta would look twice at someone like Mort.

Marta was a young, exciting, full of life women and Mort was a forty-four year old divorcee. But whatever made her want to give him the time of day he was glad; glad he was able to get out of her house alive. Marta's husband almost caught them in the act, but he managed to get out without him noticing or having a heart attack at the thought of being caught. He felt badly leaving Marta to defend for herself. _She knows him better then I do. I'm sure she knows what's she doing, _he thought as he turned onto the road.

At the same time he knew he had to get out. He had made his way out the back door and around the house just as Marta let her husband in the house. Like the wind Mort hopped in his car and pulled out of the driveway. Now all he had to do was wait for her call. It was only ten o' clock when he left Chesney. So he decided to go pick up a cup of coffee at the local Starbucks and play a prank on Nina.

Mort looked at it as doing her a favor. She was always working now that Jess left. She would have never taken the day off if Mort came in asked her to spend the day with him. With Jess gone she was stuck paying for a nine hundred dollars a month for a two-bedroom apartment. Mort could seriously kill that guy if he ever saw him walking down the street.

He drove just down the road to Nina's apartment building. I was a nice location that was perfect for her go get to work everyday without having to drive too far. Mort was a bit surprised she was going to let him stay in her apartment until she could find someone to cover her for. Mort's been to her apartment on a few occasions. The first time she invited him over to watch a movie. But that was when she was when she started dating that asshole Jess.

Jess came home one day to find Mort and Nina sitting on the couch watching the Producers. The day before they had a conversation about the original producers, they wanted to compare it to the recent one. They were getting into the movie (watching Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane droll over Uma Thurman), when Jess opened the door in a jealous rage. From Mort's point of view the situation couldn't have been more innocent.

But that didn't stop Jess from picking a fight with Nina and Mort was asked to leave. Nina made Mort promise they would watch the movie again some other time, but they have yet to get around it to. To this day Mort and Jess cant walk into the same room without breaking into a fight.

Mort walked up the walkway to the apartment building. He climbed up the stairs to the second floor. At the end of the hallway to the left he stopped at her door. He pulled out the keys and unlocked the door. He stepped inside to see it looked just as he remembered it only cleaner. There were no empty beer bottles pilling up in the trash or cigarette butts lying around the room. Nina did a great job fixing up the place. He noticed that she finally got her bedroom door fixed after Jess knocked it down one night when he was dead drunk.

Jess tired to pull off this bad boy image, but it seemed more like he just didn't know what to do with himself so he took his anger out on other people. He was definitely one of those young rebels who think they know everything there is to know about being in a relationship. Nina deserved better than Jess. She deserved someone who would be there to take care of her. _Someone like . . ._

Mort closed the door behind him. He placed the keys on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch. He suddenly felt energized; like he had just been reborn in a new younger body. He set his coffee down on the table in front of him. He didn't need it anymore. Of course he would still drive up to visit Nina once and awhile.

He decided to browse around the room until Nina arrived. He walked over the shelf where she kept her movie collection. Nina loved old movies for most of them she owned were in black and white. She loved to watch the classics like Casablanca, The Graduate, and of course, The Producers. She also enjoyed the silent films like the kind Charlie Chaplin would make. But she watched more recent movies as well. She had it bad for Jude Law. Mort reached for The Producers.

"Sorry I got here as soon as I could. I had to wait till Lacy showed up." Nina said as she entered the apartment closing the door behind her. She took off her coat and hung it up in the closet. When she turned around she noticed Mort reading the back of one of her DVD's.

"You remember when we tried to watch this?" Mort asked holding the movie up for Nina to see.

"Yes, like it was yesterday actually." Nina replied. "Are you feeling any better?"

Mort placed the DVD back in its place and moved over to the couch. He gave his thespian stills a try.

"Haven't eaten anything for days." he said in a calm yet sad voice.

"Oh, Mort!" she said hurrying over to him.

"Now all I do is smoke crack and wack off."

"You're foolin' me!" Nina said giving him a push. "You dirty bloke."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist." Mort said.

"Well it wasn't funny . . . alright it was a little funny. You still have to tell me what happened with Christine." Nina said taking a seat on the couch.

"Nah lets not spoil the day . . . let's order Chinese." Mort suggested. Nina didn't know how to react. Mort was acting a bit strange like he was hiding something. But she knew Mort. It was better just to go along with him then protest.

"Okay. I'm going to go change." Nina headed towards the bedroom which was right across the kitchen. She shut the door behind her when she entered the bedroom. Mort went over to the phone and scrambled around in the pile of clutter next to it looking for the menu of the nearest Chinese restaurant. Nina always kept the take-out phone numbers next to the phone, only she wasn't well organized.

When Mort finally found the right menu he took the phone and sat down at the kitchen table. He held the phone in his hands and started to dial the number when he realized he didn't know what Nina wanted. _She'll probably want the noodles because she always ordered them the last time we had Chinese._

Mort looked up towards the bedroom to see the door was cracked open. He stood up from him chair and headed the bedroom. He could see Nina standing in front of the door. Mort moved closer towards the room. Just then she reached down to the end of her shirt. She slowly pulled her shirt over her head revealing a cute red push up bra.

And of course her perfect breasts that Mort couldn't take his eyes off of. He didn't know Nina was blessed with such a nice figure. He just looked at her as his charming friend who happens to be a girl. That is until now. She moved another side of the room where Mort could no longer see her undress. Suddenly Mort caught himself peeping through the door at his best friend. He quickly walked back to the kitchen. He would just order her some noodles.

He sat down at the table and dialed the number to the Chinese restaurant. _What was I thinking looking at Nina like that? Sure she's beautiful but she would never want to be with someone like me, _he thought as he waited for someone to pick up the phone.

Without realizing it at first Mort looked up. Nina caught his eye again. This time she stood there without anything on but her matching red underwear.

"Hello, Tony Chung's Chinese restaurant how may I be helping you?" a female voice with an Chinese accent asked breaking Mort from his trance.

"Yes. I would like to place and order." Mort replied. In the other room Nina got out her favorite blue sweater. With her back to Mort she began to put it on. Mort looked back up at Nina to see a small butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Slowly the end of the blue sweater covered up the tattoo.

"Hello! Hello! Are you there sir?" the voice asked.

"Yes. I'm here." Mort answered.

"What do you want?"

Nina began to slide on a pair of jeans. Mort stared down at her thighs. As she pulled her jeans up Mort found his eyes also moving up. Soon he was looking at her crotch. Nina quickly pulled her jeans over her was it. Mort looked up at her face as she finished putting on her jeans.

"Nina." Mort said aloud.

"Okay I get you one of everything. Thank you for your order sir." the women on the other line said. Before Mort could correct her the line was dead. Angry, Mort began to redial the number. Just then Nina opened the door to her bedroom and exited. Mort hung up the phone and watched her walk over to him.

"You order the food?" Nina asked.

_I sure did. _"Yes." he replied. Nina sat down at the table across from Mort. She leaned forward with both elbows on the table as she always did.

"I hope you know that your going to get me fired if I keep taking off days to see you." Nina said jokingly.

"Nah, what's one day?" Mort said also leaning over the table. "Besides they wouldn't want to loose their best employee. No one would come, they'd loose business."

"They'd loose business over me?"

"Yes. That's why I always come back."

"If I didn't know you any better Mort I'd say you were flirting with me."

"What if i am?" Mort asked.

"Then I'd say you were a load of bollocks."

"Got to love that British humor." Mort said sarcastically.

"Even if you were full of bollocks I'd still hate it if they lost their best costumer."

"Are you talking about me?" Mort asked.

"Yes you buy so much coffee you could put all the employees into college . . . plus I cant afford to be fired."

"Well . . . I could help with that if you'd like?"

"No Mort, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You don't have to ask. I know your having some financial problems at the moment and I can understand the situation your in so as I friend I'm offering to help pay your rent for the few months until you find a new roommate or move or whatever you decided to do."

"Thank you." Nina said reaching her hand over to Mort's. She rubbed her thumb against the back of his hands.

"Don't mention it." Mort said smiling.

"And I'd pay you back."

"No. You don't have to do that."

"I could."

"No. Don't worry about it. But I do expect a hell of birthday gift."

Nina laughed. "What would I ever do without you?"

Mort looked up at Nina who was smiling at him. Her soft and warm skin felt so good against his hand. She leaned forward towards Mort with her lips puckered. She gave him a peck on the cheek and sat back down in her seat. Mort couldn't help but smile.

"Well the food will be here soon."

"You know if you wanted to drop by sometime and come in the apartment I could give you the spare key so you could come in at any time you want. After all the apartment would be kind of partly yours anyway. And I have an extra bedroom if you wanted to stay the night." Nina suggested.

It was a nice gesture but Mort couldn't accept. "Thanks very kind of you Nina but I don't want anything in return."

Nina quickly pulled her hand back. "Oh my God, I just invited you over to have sex didn't I?"

"Its okay, Nina I know what you meant." Mort assured her and laughed a little at the misunderstanding. Thankfully for Nina there was a knock at the door signaling that the food had just arrived. Mort paid the delivery man and brought in two larges bags filled with Chinese food.

"Who's going to eat all that?!" Nina asked.

"I'm assuming we are." Mort said walking towards the kitchen.

"Great now my apartment can smell like Chinese food for the next week and a half." Nina said getting some plates.

"I hope you're hungry." Mort said placing the bags on the counter.

"I'm starving." Nina replied setting the table.

"Do you want any egg rolls, cause they don't last very long once I get his hands on 'em?" Mort asked.

"No thanks. I just want some noodles." Nina answered.

"Okay--more for me." Mort put the box of egg rolls aside and dug around for the noodles. He handed them to Nina. She thanked him taking her seat at the table. He fixed his plate with a few egg rolls and sat down at the table.

"Is that all your going to eat?"

"No. I'm just starting at the top and working my way down."

"I wish I knew why you were acting so strange." Nina said taking a bite of her lunch. Mort stopped eating. It just about had it with Nina and her advice.

"Why cant you accept the fact that I'm happy for once?" Mort asked harshly.

"Happy? With what?" Nina asked.

"With . . . Marta." Mort said in a low voice.

"Marta? I take you didn't end it."

"I don't have to do everything you say, you know."

"Yes, but what about Christine."

"Don't you see . . . I'm not happy with Christine--she doesn't love me." Mort took a deep breath. Even he was shocked he admitted that.

"Did you break up?" Nina asked. Mort stood up from his chair.

"She doesn't know . . . I couldn't tell her--chickened out. She left for New York again and then Marta called. She invited me over to her house . . . I knew she wanted me. So. . ."

"You sagged her." Nina presumed and finished Mort's sentence at the same time.

"And I don't regret it. She was the best thing that could of happened to me."

"So that's where you were? Sagging Marta."

"Yea."

"So all you need to do now is break up with Christine and you'll have your happy ending."

"Well it's not as easy as that."

"I thought you didn't have feelings for Christine anymore?" Nina asked.

"It's not that . . . Marta's . . ." Mort paused. "Married."

Nina stood up. "Okay Mort. First I thought you were crazy but now I think you're completely mad! How can you break up someone's marriage! Marriage is . . . its--"

"Sacred? Yea I thought that once. Then I must have been mad to believe such bullshit; to think that a wedding and piece of paper meant something. Well I've got news for you, Nina--it doesn't! In fact it leaves the door wide open for someone else to come in and take everything you love. Your wife . . . your home . . . and your dignity. You see I was married once. To a beautiful woman who I loved and a man came and he took that away from me. So excuse me if I don't share with you the meaningless joy of marriage." Mort headed towards that door. He was half way out when he heard Nina.

"Do you really think by breaking up their marriage will fix what happened to you?" Nina asked holding back her tears.

Mort turned around. "You know what Nina? Why don't you find someone else to bullshit?" Mort left and slammed the door behind him.

Mort pulled into his driveway and got out of the car. As he walked up his driveway to the porch he could hear the phone ringing. _Marta, _he thought picking up his pace. He hurried up the steps and onto the porch. When he reached the front door, he pulled out his keys while his heart beating rapidly. He didn't want to miss her call.

He put one of the keys into the lock and gave it a turn. But the door didn't open. He down at his hands to see it was the wrong key. "Shit!" he cursed at himself. The key to the back and front doors of his house looked almost identical. The phone continued to ring as he switched keys.

Finally the door unlocked. The door flew open as Mort came into the house. The phone rang against but it would be the last time it would ring. Mort ran to it almost driving towards it to get it before it stopping ringing. Just in time he answered.

"Hello?"

"Mort." a voice said on the other line. It was Christine. Her voice sounded excited. It didn't shock him very much. She loved her job.

"Hey." he said trying to have the same excited tone as she did. But considering what just happened with Nina he wasn't in a very encouraging mood.

"I miss you." she replied.

"I miss you too . . . you sound happy."

She giggled. "Oh my God, Mort you wouldn't believe what a week I've having. Okay, not only did I get this amazing hotel room, but I get to the office expecting to go straight to work but it turns out everyone had planed a party for me for editing the biggest selling book of the year!"

"Wow. That's great!" Mort exclaimed happily.

"I know! It was so sweet. Everyone here had champagne and there was a cake! I mean this like never happens."

"Was is a good cake?" Mort asked.

She laughed again. "The best . . . did I mention the hotel room?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well its more like a sweet. Its a single room with a queen size bed and a Jacuzzi."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." he replied taking a seat on the chair next to the phone.

"I wish you were here." she whispered. Mort paused. He could tell she really meant it. It wasn't fair to her; Mort running around with another woman behind her back. She deserved better then that.

"Christine I have something to tell you." he started.

"What?" Christine asked.

""Remember the other night when I told you I needed to tell you something?" Mort waited for her to reply. She didn't. All he could hear was background noises.

"Where are you Christine?" Mort asked.

"What Mort? I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention. What was it you wanted to tell me?" Christine laughed. He couldn't tell her now. Not over the phone. He would wait until she got back and to break up with her. Besides he couldn't do it when was this happy, and over the phone seemed to be the heartless way to break up with someone.

"Never mind, enjoy your party." Mort said.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow." Christine said then hung up the phone. Mort leaned back in his chair. Christine would be home tomorrow. Finally he would break the news to her that they should break up. And all the work Jason did to the closet and probably the bathroom would be worthless. Not that the house couldn't use some fixing up. But he would have no one to share it with. It was time he faced the music. He would just have to get used to living alone.

Saying goodbye to Christine is going to be a tearfeast. And that was the last thing he wanted. Christine breaking down into tears. He couldn't stand to see her cry. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. If only somehow she knew that it would be better her to stay away from Mort. What about Nina?

_Nina? Please all she does is nag me about my life. Doesn't she think I know what I'm getting myself into by dating Marta? But she was trying to help me and all I did was yell at her. All she ever tries to do it help me . . . _

Mort ran his fingers though his hair. The grandfather clock on the mantel piece chimed two times. Mort decided to put the thought of out his mind for now. It seemed like talking to himself would only make matters worse. He needed something, anything to get his mind off his problems.

"I could really use a cigarette right now." Mort sighed. But he decided to quit after Amy . . . disappeared. Even then he found every time he felt sad of angry he wanted a cigarette. Hell he wanted one even when he was sitting at his desk typing or after sex. The more he saw people smoking on the street the more he wanted one. Sometimes he'd even get the urge to run up and kiss them just so he could breathe in the smoke.

Well there's smoking then there's drinking. He could always go out and buy a bottle of Jack Daniels. He would only he's struggled with alcoholism as well in the past. No wonder the only way he knew how to deal with problems was to turn to cigarettes or alcohol.

Just then there was knock at the door. Started Mort jumped in his seat. He stood up and walked over to the door. Behind it he could see a shadow of a person waiting for him to answer the door. He couldn't make out exactly who it was. But the figure he saw looked quite feminine. Mort placed his hand around the doorknob. He must be someone selling something. With that he opened the door.

He was completely shocked by who he saw. Suddenly all the cigarettes and alcohol in the world couldn't make him feel better then what he in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" Mort asked rushing out to give her a hug.

"I came as soon as I could get away." Marta replied wrapping her arms around Mort. Mort looked down at Marta. She leaned forward and kissed him. Her arms moved from his waist to around his neck. He held her closer to him. He ran one hand through her hair and up to the back of her head.

"Come on I want to take you somewhere." Marta said. They pulled away slowly. Mort followed Marta to her car which was right beside his in the driveway. She unlocked her car and they got in. It was silent as Marta drove down the road a little passed her house. Mort didn't know where she was taking him and he didn't care. She was sitting next to him and that's all that mattered.

Ten minutes went by before Mort realized where they were going. They turned onto the main street in Tashmore Lake, Lake Drive. They had driven passed the police station and passed the old store where Mort used to get his coffee and groceries. Then she kept driving until they passed the post office not to far from the cafe. The further they drove the more uncomfortable Mort seemed to get. He couldn't let her drive him any further. People were starting to stare.

"Were exactly are we going, Marta?" Mort asked as they turned the corner after the post office.

"I saw this nice restaurant as I was driving through town the first day I got here. Never got a chance to go there so I thought we'd have lunch there." Marta replied.

The first place that ran through Mort's mind was Cecilia's. Of course it was the only real restaurant in Tashmore. They had just built it almost seven years ago. Back when he and Amy were still together; when they were happy together. Before Ted, before the miscarriage, and before he started to hate her with every fiber of his being, they were happy. A lot of memories he they shared there.

Every year on their anniversary they'd have dinner there. It sounds cliché but that's what they did. I guess when your married you need something to look forward to. Just three years ago they went to Cecilia's on their anniversary and Amy revealed that she was pregnant. A few months later they lost the baby. They haven't been there since.

"Why don't we drive to New London, I'm sure there's a better restaurant there." Mort suggested.

"Too late we're already here." Marta said pulling into the parking lot. They parked in front of the restaurant where you can view the entire inside of the restaurant. Mort glanced at the throng of people inside eating their lunch. He couldn't go in. Just imaging the stares and whispers that would start the second he entered was unbearable. He wasn't even supposed to be in town let alone walk into a restaurant.

"Marta I really think we ought to go somewhere else." Mort continued to say.

"Come on you big baby." Marta said as she turned off the engine. She put her hand on the door handle about to step out when Mort grabbed her arm.

"Okay . . . I'll tell you why I cant go in there if you promise we can go somewhere else."

"Okay. Why don't you want to go in?" Marta asked.

"Remember when I told you about how I used to be married and all?" Mort asked. Marta nodded. "Well we used to come here all the time. It was kind of our place, yea know?"

Marta sat there for a moment staring at him. Then she finally said, "Well we're just going to have to get over that now aren't we? And you could start right now. You can't just let her control you forever."

"It's not just that . . . it's the whole town and all the people in it. You see things don't stay secrets for very long in this town. So when everyone found out about the divorce they just turned their backs on me. Everywhere I went I was treated like I killed somebody."

"These people can't do that. You live in the same town and pay your bills just like every other red blooded American. She left you and you don't owe any explanation to these people."

Marta was right. He'd forgotten how much he disliked these people that he let them think he was a murderer. And by not showing his face in town in the past year probably proved them right. When it was him they were afraid of. And he did pay his bills every month like everyone else, probably more then most due to it being a 1.5 million dollar house.

But besides the fact that he's a good citizen the people in Tashmore used to greet him with such enthusiasm it made him sick. They absolutely loved that fact that someone famous lived in their shit hole of a town. However Mort always had the sense that people liked Amy more than him. It was more then obvious they did.

When Mort would go into town without her, they'd always ask how she was doing in a way that made them sound they were really asking why isn't she there instead of him. He didn't go into town often, only when Amy wasn't there or if he wanted to go buy cigarettes. He didn't want to tell Amy. The looks and the questions only got worse after the divorce. It was completely unfair that while Amy was fucking some guy he had to deal with the disappointing glares and whispers from the people of Tashmore Lake.

"I've got an idea." Marta said. "You stay here and follow my lead." Before Mort could say anything Marta got out of the car. He was watched her as she walked up to the front of the restaurant and walked in. Mort smiled when he notice everyone peeking glances at her. Every man in the room probably got hard just looking at her. And every women wished they could command the attention of everyone in a room like she did.

Marta walked right up to the host who was standing behind a podium holding a handful of menus. She began talking to him as if he were an old friend. She flipped her hair a lot and held the man's tie as she flirted with him. Marta leaned against the podium and everyone watched her as she talked her way into getting their best table.

Mort knew what she was doing. She was going to make the man think she was eating alone so he could have the chance to hit on her just like every other man in the room wanted to do. But just as one of them gets up the courage to go up to her Mort would walk in and everyone would see she was there with him. He had to hand it to her; it was a good plan.

Mort stepped out of the car. Marta continued to flirt with the host. He waited until the host would show her to her seat. Just then she looked unnoticeably up at Mort assuring him she should be done soon. Then she quickly turned back to the host. Mort continued to wait.

Finally it looked as if she was asking him for their best seat in the house. The host laughed politely. Mort started to feel a little doubtful that her plan was going to work. But just as Mort felt like should get back into the car Marta started to walk towards the back of the restaurant. She kept eye contact with Mort as she walked down the isle until she was out of sight.

It was time. Mort had to enter the restaurant. And he was ready. He couldn't wait to see the look on everyone's faces when they saw him eating lunch with Marta. With that Mort made his to the front doors of the restaurant. He flung them open as he entered. The host stared at Mort like a deer in the headlights. All eyes were fixed upon Mort with shocking surprise.

He couldn't hear them but he knew their whispers were of him. And he didn't bother to look at their faces because he knew people only shared opinions of disgust for him. The only thing he cared to pay attention to was Marta. He looked around for her. Then remembered she headed towards the back.

"Can I help you, sir?" the host asked stepping in front of Mort blocking his way to the bathrooms. His voice was shaky. Mort could tell he recognized him by how uncomfortable his appearance made everyone.

"Yes. Did you see an incredibly beautiful women walk in here?" Mort asked.

"I'm sorry sir you're going to have to either sit down and order something or leave." The man replied.

"I just want to use the bathroom" Mort replied.

"I'm sorry sir, restrooms are for paying customers only. You can try next door." the host said. Mort could see that the man was just trying to get him to leave.

"I'll only be a minute." He walked straight towards the back of the restaurant. Mort soon reached the hall that led into a smaller room which divided off into two separate bathrooms. The host luckily had given up trying to stop Mort. Now all Mort had to do was figure out which bathroom she was in. Obviously she would walk into the women's bathroom due to her being in fact a woman. On the other hand she could be waiting inside the men's bathroom for Mort.

Mort turned towards the men's bathroom. _On the other hand the women's bathroom is cleaner._ Mort turned around and walked into the women's bathroom. There he saw nothing but a small empty room. Suddenly he heard the door look behind him. He stood still as Marta wrapped her arms around him. Mort turned around and faced her. Mort leaned forward and kissed her.

"I thought you were never going to come." Marta said.

"I kind of had trouble figuring out which bathroom you walked into." Mort replied.

"The women's bathroom—it's cleaner." Marta said as they kissed again. Marta began to unbutton his shirt. Mort loved how adventurous and exotic she was. That only she could take his mind off the fight he had with Nina and the fact he would have to break Christine's heart tomorrow.

And how she helped show the town that he didn't care anymore what they thought of him. They weren't the ones about to have sex with a gorgeous woman in a public bathroom. For once he didn't care what they thought of him. She was all he needed. Marta finished unbuttoning his shirt and moved onto his belt. Before he knew it was off.

"You're getting good at that." Mort said.

"I've had plenty of practice." Marta replied tossing his belt to the side. She pushed him back against the wall kissing him softly. Mort ran his hair through her hair as their kissing speeded up. Mort could smell the sweet aroma that was her perfume. He absolutely loved the way she smelt. It turned him on in way that made him forget where they were and think only of how good the moment felt.

Mort took one of her legs and held it by his side. Mort kissed up and down her neck as he unzipped his pants. He could feel her breathing heavily on the edge of his shoulder. Her breathing got lower as he entered her. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it were going to jump right out his chest. Mort continued to hold Marta in place as they moved with each others rhythm.

Marta wrapped her arms around Mort's neck. She ran her fingers through his hair repeatedly as she moved slowly against the wall. She brushed the tips of her fingers through his hair and tightened her grip around his hair and pulled him toward her. She kissed him with all her might. Her kiss was enough to distract him that he almost let her slip out of his hands.

Mort took Marta, now by both her legs, and carried her over to the counter. He carried her as quickly as he could and pushed her back against the mirror. Marta looked up at him with such arousing surprise that she took him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for another embrace. Her teeth caressed his lip as their lips pulled away. Mort grabbed her by the hips and scooted her up to the edge of the counter. As Mort continued to thrust Marta held onto him looking into his eyes.

The passion in her eyes screamed for more, Mort thrusted harder. Mort held leaned his hand against the mirror as he continued to make love Marta. Marta leaned with one hand on the counter and the other on Mort's shoulder as she was about to come. Nothing could be better then that moment.

He couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't have met her earlier in life. On the other hand Amy's infidelity brought them together. Marta was undoubtedly more exciting than Amy. Ironically this was a restaurant he used to go to with Amy. Never in all his years of marriage would Amy have done something like this. And that's what he loved about Marta; she wasn't anything like Amy.

Marta gently pushed Mort off her and began to compose herself. She fixed her hair and make-up in the mirror as Mort zipped up his pants. He slowly buttoned up his shirt glancing up at Marta every other button he put together. She flashed a flirtatious smile at Mort's reflection in the mirror. Mort finished up buttoning his shirt and wrapped his arms around Marta and kissed her softly on her temple.

"I'll walk out first then you follow." Marta said.

"Fine with me." Mort agreed. Marta exited the bathroom. As Mort stood there alone in the women's bathroom he thought only of Marta and how she was the only one that could ever get him to walk into the women's bathroom. She had a control of him that he would always give into. He waited three minutes before he decided to walk out. He placed his hand on the door when he heard footsteps from outside.

"Shit." Mort swore as he glanced around for a place to hide. As the footsteps crept closer Mort ran towards the end of the room. He jumped into one of the bathroom stalls and locked it shut. Just then the door to the bathroom opened. Two women laughing entered the room.

"Yes and she bought the house to get away from her husband." one of the women said. The other women laughed as she walked into a stall only two stalls away from Mort. The other women fixed her make up in the mirror as she continued to gossip.

"How's David doing?" the women in the stall asked.

"Good. He's finally taking me on our honey moon."

"Really?"

"Yea he recently came into some money with that Jefferson deal." the women said putting on her lip stick. The other women flushed the toilet and walked out of the stall.

"I'm so happy for you I was beginning to think he was never going to take you on a proper honey moon."

"Neither did I." they laughed. "Not after his divorce with Sherry. Oh, it absolutely crushed him and his son. How can that woman stand to be at work all the time and not be home to take care of her own child?"

"How is Jess handling it?" the women who came out of the stall asked as she turned the water on.

"He's been doing really well actually . . . until that girlfriend of his dumped him."

"No! That poor sweet boy?"

"Yes. And he said she dumped him for another man she's been seeing."

"Who?"

"An older man."

"I tell you that girl Nina is trouble." the women said drying her hands. The other women closed up her purse and they opened the door.

"We ought to tell Nancy and Rachel about this--tell their boys to watch out for that hussy."

Mort waited for the sound of the door closing behind them to get out of the stall. But the next thing he heard made his heart race.

"What's that?"

"It must be someone's earring."

"How do you suppose it got there?"

"I don't know . . . should we just leave it here?"

"Yes. What is only one earring good for anyway?" That was the last thing Mort heard before they left. He heard the door close behind them and he stepped out of the stall. He walked over to the sink he had just had sex on and picked up the earring. Mort didn't even notice it fell off.

_I must be a real idiot, _he thought as the stared down at the earring, _a complete idiot. _All that Nina was trying to do was help him. She apparently took his advice in dumping that no good sonofabitch and Mort didn't even have the balls to dump Christine. And no matter what Nina was doing she always found the time to talk to Mort.

Mort closed his hand into a fist and he realized something. He was jealous of Jess. Being just a friend to Nina would never be enough. But that didn't mean she felt that same way about him. Mort knew now that he could live with Nina and him never being together. If it meant never seeing Nina again he would have to settle for just a friendship.

Mort placed the earring into his pocket and walked out the bathroom. When he looked up he saw a man who just came out the men's room staring up at him. Mort stared back for a moment.

"I heard they have cleaner bathrooms then us . . . wanted to see if it were true." Mort said. Mort walked away as the man continued to stare at him.

In head of him he could Marta flirting with the host again. She was leaning against the podium as he went on about how the old Star Wars was better then the new Star Wars. It didn't take more then a second before she spotted Mort. She quickly interrupted the man mid-sentence and said goodbye. Mort hurried after her. The host watch in awe as Mort got into the same car as Marta.

Mort stared out the window as Marta pulled out of the parking lot. He continued to look out the window thinking of ways he could apologize to Nina. He could go to Starbucks and tell her he was sorry. No. That was too informal. He knew Nina more then that to not confront her with a real apology. He would have to go to her apartment and tell her there. Perhaps he gift would make the conversation move easier.

He even acted out how the conversation would go in his mind. He would show up tomorrow at her apartment with some flowers--no. He'd bring her the rent money he said he'd help her pay. Then she would of course be angry with him and he would have to talk her into letting him in to explain why he was such an asshole. That was the hard part. What would he say?

"Come inside, Mort." Marta said turning off the car. Mort looked around noticing that he was in the driveway of someone's house.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"My house, silly." Marta stepped out of the car. Mort followed her as she walked up the walk way to the front door. For some reason the thought of walking into her house made him extremely nervous.

"Um . . . why are we here exactly?" Mort asked as Marta unlocked the front door.

"We'll only be here for a second." she opened the door. "And don't worry my husband isn't home." She entered the house.

Mort couldn't help stare mindlessly into the enormous house. The foyer was the size of his entire living room. At the middle of the foyer was a grand staircase that curved at the top and wrapped around coming straight down into the foyer. The floor was a sparkling marble mixed with elegant wooden flooring that extended from the foyer and into the hall under the staircase. He could see the kitchen at the end of hall underneath the stairs.

"Are you going to come in?" Marta asked standing at the bottom of the stairs. Mort finally took a step inside the house. He closed the door behind him as Marta began her way up the stairs. He was still unsure as to why she brought him here. As she said her husband was no were in sight, but that didn't stop him from coming home unannounced.

Mort glanced around admiring his surroundings. He entered the living room taking notice of a certain photograph that caught his eye's attention. Knowing that Marta wasn't there to watch him he felt more inclined to snoop around her house. When he came upon the photo he noticed it was of Marta and a man that was strangely unfamiliar. Yet Mort knew exactly who it was.

He was tall with blonde hair and standing about six feet tall. He had a mostly muscular physique that made his look like he was about to burst out of his tuxedo. Marta looked affectionately into his eyes in her luxurious white gown. There was no doubt that she looked splendid in that gown and Mort realized why she brought him here. Mort headed over to the stairs.

When he reached the top of the stairs he saw the door was opened at the end of the hallway. He walked straight ahead knowing that Marta was just on the other side of the door. He slowly peeked open the door. Marta stood half naked in front of the bed. Mort watched her as she reached around to the back of her bra. Just then she spotted Mort behind her.

"Get over here" she demanded. Mort walked over to her. She turned and faced Mort giving him a kiss as she began to undress him.

"Didn't you just fuck me?" Mort asked.

"Yes." she replied in her sensual yet seducing whisper.

"You never told me what happened after I left the other day." Mort said as they cuddled under the sheets. He brushed his hand gently up and down her smooth skin. She was so sensual and beautiful that he knew he would always give in to her seduction. She loved having that kind of power over him.

"Nothing much happened. He stopped by to say goodbye on his way out of town." Marta replied in a low voice. Mort glanced up at the ceiling. All he could think about was Nina and how contrite he felt. Mort noticed that Marta had quickly fallen asleep in his arms. He shifted his body out from under her, placing her head on the pillow as he got out of bed.

He quickly got dressed and headed out of the room. As he come under the threshold of the door he looked back at Marta sleeping soundlessly on the bed. For a moment he wondered if he should leave a note. But he didn't want to explain to her everything that happened before she came to his door. With that Mort walked out of the room. He practically ran down the stairs and out the front door this time he did not look back.

The sky had deepened into night as he walked down the long driveway. He knew the distance from Marta's house to his was far, but he was determined to get to his house. The sooner he reached it the sooner he could talk to Nina. Mort walked as quick as he could down the driveway as he passed Marta's car. He kept going until he finally could see the dim light ahead of him that was his house.

It wasn't far ahead now so Mort picked up his pace. As he neared the front door he took out his keys front his pocket and opened it. He didn't bother the shut the door behind him as he entered the house. He immediately headed up the stairs to his desk. Opening the bottom drawer of his desk he dug around inside searching for the money he would give to Nina. After a short while of removing everything from the drawer he finally came upon a large envelope.

It was an envelope full of money in which he kept in cases of emergencies. But Mort hasn't had an 'emergency' since Amy needed to bail her brother out of jail. Mort made his way downstairs. Just as he approached the front door the grandfather clock on the mantelpiece chimed ten times. Mort didn't realize how late it was. He knew by the time he reached Nina's house it would be close to eleven. At the same time he was sure that Nina would not appreciate him showing up so late at her apartment.

Mort moved over to the couch. He tossed the envelope on the coffee table as he sat down. He stared at it for a moment deciding if he should or should not go. He lay back against the couch closing his eyes when his head hit the pillow. As soon as he closed his eyes he pictured Nina sitting at her kitchen table alone probably crying her eyes out that Mort had been so unkind to her.

Suddenly his eyes flashed open. He sprung up from the couch. Taking the envelope in his hands he exited the house. He knew he would never be able to sleep unless he made amends with Nina. Mort quickly got into his car and drove to New London. His heart was beating rapidly the entire time--not sure of what he was going to say when he saw her.

When he reached Nina's apartment he pulled into the parking lot and sat in his car for a moment. He rubbed the hair on his goatee trying to think of something to say. The only thing he could think of to say was the simple 'I'm sorry'. _That I was a complete jerk . . . a complete jackass. _

After a long moment he finally he got out of the car. Slowly he walked to Nina's house suddenly feeling the pressure of anticipating Nina's reaction to Mort showing up at her house at midnight. He walked up the long hallway to her room. As he neared the door his heart felt as if it were in his stomach. Before knocking he took a deep breath.

And another deep breath . . .

And one last deep breath then knocked hard on the door. _I hope I'm not waking her, _he thought as he pulled away his fist from the door. But it was too late to turn back he could hear Nina approaching the door. Mort started down at the envelope as he waited for the door to open. It seemed like a lifetime as he stood outside the door waiting for Nina to open it. The cold started to get to him he could feel his hands going numb.

Just then the door flung open. Nina stood there in her bathrobe staring with the up more shocking expression. Mort was at a loss of words. He could feel his mouth moving but not words came out. Nina continued to glare at him, but it didn't take long for her to speak the first words.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I—." Mort began to speak but stopped himself. He had forgotten all that he had rehearsed to say. He looked down the hallway at the exit then turned back to Nina. He found himself looking passed Nina and behind her. What he saw shocked him so beyond anything he's ever seen before that it could easily be compared to someone taking a knife and cutting his heart out.

"What is he doing here?!" Mort asked suddenly raising his voice. Mort then realized that Nina's expression was only because Mort had shown up to witness such an unthinkable act. She was trying to get rid of Mort as soon as she opened the door just so she could get him to leave without seeing Jess coming out of the bedroom in his underwear.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nina awoke hours later to realize what she had done. She didn't exactly remember how it happened all that mattered was that it did. All she knew was that she was so upset from having a quarrel with Mort all she wanted was to be comforted. Jess showed up at her door moments after Mort left that pervious afternoon. The hope that it would be Mort was overwhelming, but when she opened the door to see Jess, she wasn't in any position to dismiss him.

But when looked over to see Jess lying in the bed beside her she was beside herself with regret. At that moment she felt like throwing her hands over her eyes and crying. She wished it had been Mort who returned to her, but life wasn't always that kind. For it if were Mort she would have fallen into his arms the same way she fell into Jess's. If it were Mort he would be the one to lay beside her when she would have woken up to hours later.

"Hey, babe." Jess said when he woke up. "Thanks for making my night." Nina didn't reply. If only it were possible with her guilt ripping apart her heart, she wanted to forget that this ever happened.

"I knew you were missing me." Jess continued to say. Nina found herself feeling as if she were in hell. She sat up on the bed staring at the ceiling thinking of how she longed for Mort. Jess went on about their relationship letting every ignorant thought he had fly out of his mouth. Nina continued to stare at the ceiling and tuned him out the best she could.

Just then she hear a knock at the door. Nina's heart seemed to leap into her throat. She was terrified to see how would show up at her door at twelve o' clock at night. Nina immediately sprung up from the bed and headed to the door.

"Make a sandwich while you're up!" Jess said in his I-acting-like-I'm-asking-you-but-really-I'm-telling-you voice. Nina walked out of the bedroom closing the door behind her. She was almost to the door when she realized she was in her underwear. As quick as she could she ran back into the bedroom search for something to put on. On the chair between her dresser and full length mirror she spotted a short silk bathrobe.

She immediately grabbed it and pulled it around herself and tied it together. Just as she began to head back out of the room she caught her reflection in the mirror. She was disgusted with what she saw. Her once lovely reflection had become unbearable to look at. The guilt she had been writing all over her face. She couldn't look at herself for more than a few seconds before she ran out of the room.

She made sure the bedroom door was shut as she made her way across the living room. She didn't bother to look to see who it was before opening the door for she had kept them waiting long enough. She held tightly on the robe as she slowly opened the door. All of the sudden she was overcome with such mortification that her worse nightmare had come true.

"What are you doing here, Mort?" Nina asked. It was the first thing that came to her mind she barely had time to think of why she asked. She already knew that by him showing up at her door meant he loved her in return. And of course to beg for her apology which wouldn't take long because she was ready to forgive. If only she waited a few more hours.

He stood there at a lost for words for a moment when she suddenly felt the urge to snog him. But something told her to wait until he said something. She wanted to wait until he got out what he wanted to say, but he remained silent. She knew that when he finally put his words together for a heartfelt apology her eyes would tear up and they would finally confess their love for each other.

Of course life isn't always that kind. Nina heard the heart wrenching sound of the bedroom door closing. She had let herself forget for an instant that she was in no doubt still in hell. She didn't have to turn her head to see that Jess had come out of the bedroom.

"What is he doing here?" Mort asked.

"Mort, you gave me a fright." Nina replied. She could sense the pain in his voice. And just like that the tears started flowing.

"I asked you what is he doing here!" Mort asked enraged by the sight of Jess. Before Nina could answer Mort stormed down the hall.

"Mort!" Nina called as she quickly followed behind him. Luckily he stopped at the stairs.

"What are you doing with him Nina?! Are you trying to push me away?"

"No—."

"Your throwing your life away Nina! He's no good. And you deserve better then some punk who treats you like shit and only comes around when he wants to sleep with you."

"Mort please--let me explain--."

"No! I can't take it anymore, Nina . . . I'm don't with it. I'm done trying to convince you that he's no good for you." Mort turned away from Nina and started down the stairs. Nina's tears came down uncontrollably down her cheeks. But just then Mort stopped. He stood on the stairs silently for a moment. Without looking at Nina he stretched out his arm towards her with the envelope in his hands.

"Here . . . take this. I want you to have it." Mort said trying his hardest not to turn and hold Nina in his arms. Nina could tell he didn't want to look at her. She couldn't blame him. She was so ashamed with herself she couldn't even stand to see her own reflection.

"No . . . Mort . . . I can't—."

"Just take it!" Nina slowly reached for the envelope. As soon as she put her hands on it she wanted to pull her hands back. She couldn't accept anything Mort wanted to give her, but it was too late Mort had already let go. She looked down at the envelope crying more than ever now. She ripped it open. When she saw the money her heart sank. She glanced up to thank Mort, but he was gone. She held the money against her chest.

Mort was already near his car by the time Nina realized he wasn't standing on the stairs. He quickly got into his car and drove down the street. He really wished he just stayed home tonight at least he wouldn't have to witness Nina with Jess. He couldn't help but wonder which event was worse; discovering his wife and her lover at a cheap motel or tonight. Tonight made him feel even more melancholy then before due to the fact that he let history repeat itself.

The thought of Jess touching Nina made Mort sick to his stomach. Mort quickly put the thought out of his mind as he drove further down the road. By the time he reached his house he was utterly exhausted and regretted leaving his house an hour ago. He parked the car and walked in a gloomy and dead feeling state to his living room. He lay down on the couch facing the fireplace.

He thought of how he missed that sensual and innocent girl that was Nina. The way she smiled at him when he entered the room. The way she laughed when she was happy. The way her hair smelt when he held her close. And the way she made his heart light up even when he was having a bad day. But he found the more he thought about Nina to more he wanted to forgive her.

Mort awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He was glad to have awoken just in time as his dream from the other night continued. As Marta came closer she slowly pulled out a knife from her robe. Mort turned to face his house. Marta was now close enough that he could feel her breathe down his neck. Quicker than a bullet fired out of a gun, Marta pierced the knife through Mort's skin.

Even though he could not feel any pain in the dream he screamed in agony. Suddenly he heard something that sounded more ear piercing then his screams. As Marta continued to stab him he managed find what making such an irritating sound. He could hear Marta laughing in enjoyment as she repeatedly stabbed him in his back. Blood poured out from his back he could feel it soaking through his clothes. The pain he knew was unbearable and if he didn't get anyway he would surely face his fate with death.

It was then he noticed, sitting on the coffee table, the phone that had been making the strange noise. He hurried to answer it. Marta jumped on his back as Mort struggled to get away. Suddenly his legs felt like jello and he collapsed on the floor. Even though he was loosing so much blood he continued his way towards the phone that was now on the floor a few feet in front of him. He stretched out his arm as far as he could, but he could not reach the receiver.

The phone kept ringing and Marta proceeded to stab him. He used all his might to crawl to the phone. It felt as if he were swimming his way through a pool of blood to the phone which seemed to finally be in reach. His hand was just above the receiver ready to pick it up when his eyes opened.

"Hello." Mort answered roughly, not quite awake yet. At the same time he was greatly relieved to be alive and out of such an horribly vivid dream.

"Hey, Mort."

"Christine?"

"Yes. It's me . . ."

"How are you?" Mort said rubbing his eyes.

"I'm good. I thought I'd call before I got on the plane to let you know I was on my way." replied Christine. Mort pulled the phone away from his mouth as he yawned. He sat up on the couch still not quite awake nor asleep, he put the phone back to his ear.

"Thank you that's very nice of you. What time do you think you'll be here?"

"Oh . . . I'd say around noon . . . I also wanted to know if you were picking me up at the airport."

"Oh, yea sure I can't do that. Why didn't you just ask sooner?"

"Well Mort I tried calling you in the past three days, but your harder to get to then the president." Christine joked. Mort laughed politely. He found no humor in it considering where he's been the past three days.

"Anyway I have to go there calling for take off . . . I love you . . . bye." Christine said.

"Bye." Mort replied. Christine hung up. She seemed to be in a hurry so maybe she didn't realize he didn't say 'I love you' back. She did hang up quite fast she only gave Mort time to utter one word.

He hung up the phone and stood up off the couch. The airport was quite a long drive so he would have to start soon considering there might be traffic along the way. He took notice of the time to see it was only eight-thirty. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Christine why he hasn't been taking her calls. Perhaps the usual I unplugged the phone because I was writing excuse.

He quickly got his keys and headed out the door. He got in his car and drove down the driveway. As he rode passed Marta's place he couldn't help but think of how exciting it was to spend the passed few days with her. It had been so long since Mort was truly intimate with someone. To have Marta show him that his life wasn't completely pointless and opened his eyes to more possibilities was more then he could have ever asked for. For that he would always be grateful to her.

But before he could see her again he needed to tell Christine how he truly felt. It was be the hardest thing he would ever have to do breaking Christine's heart. All she did was love him and in the end Mort never loved her back. A part of him would always know why. It all started after Amy disappeared and suddenly everyone around Mort was leaving him.

Not only had the entire town turn on him but his old friend and editor decided not to do business with Mort any longer due to his new reputation. And just like that Mort started to look for a new editor. Mort was a pretty well known author but that didn't stop people from turning him down for the job. It seemed like no one wanted to be hired by Mort. All the local papers with the new of four missing people didn't help much either.

Finally Mort found this small publishing company just outside of New York that would be more then willing to do business with famous author Mort Rainey. It wasn't like Mort to go for a small company due to how much money he was getting for books these days but anything was better then nothing at the point.

He called the company up and was to meet with his new editor. He arrived there at exactly at one o' clock. He entered the building and walked through the small lobby where there a large desk sat in the middle of the room. At the desk was an old woman who was typing on the computer with her glasses down at the end of her nose. Mort approached the desk.

"Excuse me." Mort said getting the women's attention.

"I'm here to meet with Mr. Smith." Mort said.

"You must be Mort Rainey." she said with a bit of enthusiasm. "Follow me." She led the way as she got out from behind the desk and they both headed down to hall. As they turned the corner Mort as graceful as he is didn't notice one of the employees who happened to be carrying a lot of papers and they collided into one another.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry!" Mort said helping her pick up her things.

"Its alright." the women replied. Mort gathered her things as quickly as he could. He didn't realize that when he looked up he would see the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen put together with long blond hair. There was an obvious psychical and mutual attraction when their eyes met.

"Uht-um." coughed the old women. "Mr. Rainey Mr. Smith does not like to be kept waiting."

They kept eye contact as they stood up. Mort couldn't help but smile. The women kindly returned the smile. Mort watched her as she headed down the hallway. When she was out of sight Mort noticed the old woman was already half way down the hallway in the opposite direction. He picked up his pace a little to catch up.

His memory was a little vague of meeting Mr. Smith but who could forget the large round man with his cheeto fingers and the armpit stains shirts. _Not exactly sticking to that new diet their pal?_

"Mr. Rainey. It's a pleasure to be doing business with you, I'm Mr. Smith." he said reaching out his hand not bothering to get up from his seat. Mort leaned over the desk to shake the man's plump hand. _Seriously I went from being one of the most well respected authors in the country to **this.**_

"Please have a seat." he said in his rough old voice referring to one of the two brown leather seats in front of his desk. Mort hesitated before taking a seat. His seats looked quite old he wasn't sure what condition they were in, being to be polite, Mort sat down. Surely enough, the seat seemed to sag down more then usual when he sat in it.

He rambled on about God knows what after Mort politely declined a cup of coffee. All Mort could remember was smelling this fowl smell coming from the hallway. Man how that place reeked. Just as Mort began thinking of ways to escape she walked in. The hot blonde he met in the hallway. Not the most romantic ways to meet someone.

"Ahh, Miss Ross I want you to meet Mr. Rainey. He's going to be doing business with us." said the old man. Mort quickly stood up to greet her. The second their hands touched Mort felt his stomach doing back flips.

"It's nice to meet you again, Mr. Rainey." she said.

"The pleasure is all mine." Mort replied continuing to shake her hand. She politely let go of his hand and turned towards the old man.

"I would like you to get Mort situated and give him anything he asks for." said the old man.

"Yes, you can follow me Mr. Rainey." she said then walked out of the room, Mort following closely behind her. They walked to the end of the hallway passed where they had their collision earlier and to the very last door on the left.

"You can have a seat, Mr. Rainey." she said as they entered the office. Mort didn't hesitate to take a seat for the room looked nothing like the old man's. In fact it was completely modern and had a fresh feeling to it. And the smell wasn't bad either . . . Coco Chantal if he was not mistaken.

That should have been the first sign for Mort to stay away. She always preferred the most luxurious things like designer clothes which wasn't a bad thing considering she looked good wearing it. At the same time she was quite conservative and probably never did anything wrong in her entire life; two things of which Mort wasn't. He never would buy something from Prada, but he has committed so many sins it was hard to keep track.

She asked him many questions that only took about ten minutes that she typed into the computer. Mort mostly stared at her thin lips as she typed. She hardly looked at Mort, but when she did she always had a smile on her face. Her smiled was so warm and inviting that Mort couldn't help but smile back.

"Okay Mr. Rainey thank you for your time. I will contact you in a few days to go over some book details." she said smiling.

"Thank you very much, Miss Ross, was it?" Mort said as they both stood up to shake hands.

"Yes that's correct Mr. Rainey."

"Oh please call me Mort. And I want to apologize again for earlier in the hallway."

"Oh that's okay." she seemed to hesitate before saying his name. "Mort, your not the first man I've fallen for." she joked.

Mort ran his hand through his hair laughing. "That's good to know."

"I'm looking forward to be doing business with you." she said sincerely.

"I believe the feelings are mutual."

"Goodbye." she paused again but for a shorter time. "Mort."

"Goodbye, Miss Ross." That was the last thing he said before he left. He wasn't sure when she was going to call usually when people say they'll it takes a week or two before they get around to it. But to his surprise she called him the very next day. They met at a casual restaurant that Mort could tell that people only went there to have lunch with clients.

They talked for three hours about absolutely anything that wasn't too personal. For the majority of the time Christine talked about her three sisters. Before they knew it lunch turned into a dinner and Mort insisted they go to this Italian restaurant not too far away. The romantic atmosphere had turned the entire evening around and got Christine thinking less about business and more about being romantic which was exactly what Mort wanted.

"Don't Mort." Christine said rejecting his kiss. The was just about over as he tried giving her a goodnight kiss before she stepped into the cab. Mort backed away from her confused and a little offended. "It's not that I don't like you . . . it's--."

"The whole client thing."

"Yea." She replied.

"Okay . . . goodnight, Miss Moss." Mort said as he opened the door to the cab for her. She silently got into the cab. Mort closed the door behind her. He watched the cab drive down the street. The cab stopped at the end of the street and sat there for a few moments. In a perfect story this would be the part that she'd get out of the cab, run down the street, and kiss Mort passionately on the lips.

But as the cab continued down the street, Mort knew his life was far from perfect. At that moment he realized she wasn't wearing her coat that she was wearing until she had taken it off when they were seated in the restaurant. Mort quickly went back and found he coat still in the same table they sat just ten minutes ago. As he exited the restaurant for the second time that night he couldn't help but wonder if Christine would turn back to get it. When will she realize she was without her coat?

Mort waited in front of the restaurant what seemed like twenty minutes. _Oh, I'll just give it to her the next time we meet. _With that he walked down a few blocks remaining in the same gloomy state he was in when she rejected his kiss. At the end of the street he looked up to see a sign in a window to an all night bar. Suddenly a drink or two didn't sound so bad. But having been an alcoholic he decided to go in.

He remembered it all too well the state of being thirsty all hours of the day. Spending night and day wishing he had something to drink. Nothing seemed to satisfy his thirst like alcohol did. Even the smell of it made him thirsty. Mort sat down at the bar and ordered a shot of Jack Daniels. Old Jack. It helped Mort get through many of bad times. But like a good drink it was there many of good times as well.

He raised his glass and brought it to his lips. But before he could take a sip he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Mort turned around to see who it was. When he saw that beautiful face he wasn't so thirsty anymore.

"Hi." he said happily.

"Hi. I was on my way home when I drove passed a clothing store when I realized I had forgotten my coat. So I had the cab turn around and I saw you walk in here. So now I'm here and I see that you have my coat." she said taking a seat in the stool next to him.

"Yea I thought I'd take it with me since it looked so good on you I thought it be the same on me." Mort joked.

"And?"

"And I think I've made a terrible mistake. You can have it back." Mort replied.

"Thank you, Mort for going back and getting it for me. It's my favorite Roberto Cavalli coat." she said take it from Mort.

"Roberto Cavalli, huh. I like his ravioli."

Christine laughed. "Roberto Cavalli is an Italian fashion designer." Mort knew very well who he was. Amy bought a pair of his shoes when they went to New York he thought he would have to pull out a second mortgage on the house. Women and their desire for expensive possessions. But lucky he had made a bad joke in front of Christine that she found to be charming which lead her to have second thoughts about how she almost ended the night.

They talked for a few moments longer then exited the bar after Mort paid for his untouched glass of whiskey. When they were outside Mort noticed the cab was still there. Christine turned to Mort and said,

"Thanks again, Mort."

"It's no problem, Miss Moss." he replied. Slowly she came closer towards Mort. As if he were frozen in place he stood there awaiting her kiss. She leaned forward and finally their lips touched. Mort wrapped his arms around her waist and she placed hers on his chest. And just like that Mort found himself in a relationship. It wasn't long before Christine started working at another publishing company in New York. Not only was it more successful but Christine didn't feel ashamed for dating her client anymore.

Things kind of progressed from there. And if you think this was a longer story it's an even longer story how Christine came to want to move in. The short version is that she finally discovered that when Mort is writing a story that is basically the only thing he thinks about. When he's writing he always sat at his computer and never paid much attention to anything going on in world around him. He would completely isolate himself from society by unplugging his phone and going on a all corn diet.

Christine came over one day and found Mort typing on his computer not even noticing she entered the house much like he did that day she brought him breakfast. But this time was much worse. It wasn't until she got up the stairs when Mort finally noticed she was there. He didn't spring up from his seat he only smiled at her and continued typing. Christine waited a moment as he finished his thoughts.

"Just wanted to get that chapter done." he said closing his computer.

Christine nodded. She was used to authors like this. Although she never dated one she always respected them because they worked hard for the money they earned. Plus they always kept up their contract and were done with the story the time they needed to be. But dating an author of this sort of dedication was a different story.

"I'm glad to see that you're working hard, but I thought maybe you'd want to take a break for a few hours--."

"Oh! I forgot to save!" Mort said opening his computer back up. He pulled up his document and clicked the save button. "Man that was close." he turned back to Christine. "What were you saying?"

Christine looked at him sternly. This was not the first time Mort ignored her or blew her off to spend time writing his story. She had no idea what he could be writing. He never showed her and he never published anything after that rewrite of his novel Secret Window. She loved him but how could she live being second best to his work?

"Nothing. I'll just leave you to your work." she said turning away.

"Wait!" Mort called after her. "Why are you leaving?" he asked now standing away from his desk.

"I don't know why I even bothered to come here." she immediately replied.

"Well don't hold back tell me how you really feel." replied Mort sarcastically.

"That is how I really feel . . . I hate that you're always working and not being my boyfriend."

Mort looked down at his feet. She was right in the sense that he was always working, however did she ever stop to think that maybe that was the way he made his living? He couldn't help but feel a strong sense of déjà vu. Of course! This is almost exactly what happened with Amy except Amy never had the balls to confront him about it. No. She preferred to sleep with other men. For that he respected Christine. He had to give her props--she had balls.

"I'm so sorry." he said hugging her. "Is that Chanel?" he asked smelling a whiff of her perfume. She giggled slightly.

"You know what that stuff does to me." he said leaning in closer towards her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he caressed her soft skin with his lips. She loved the way he kissed her neck so much that she sighed at the mere thought of it. Her heart seemed to be between her ears as it beated faster then it ever had in her life. He never touched her like this. She wanted to be intimate in the very way two people are intimate with each other. Only she was very nervous by the fact she never given herself to anyone completely.

She trembled when their lips touch. She has been kissed by many men before, but not like the way Mort kissed her. His kiss was filled with unbearable desire to give into the pleasure and the love that she finally realized he shared for her. She certainly hoped that Mort would take the next step and just lift her up into the bedroom where he would make passionate love to her. The first time had done it was at her prom with her date which turned out to be quite awkward and nothing like either of them expected.

And it ended with a used condom stuck to her hair while being kept awake half the night from listening to her drunk date regurgitate i the bathroom next to the bed. It was undoubtedly the worst night of her life. But she dare not let it ruin her moment with Mort. This was it. Finally she would have the night she was craving for the very night of her prom. And this time no alcohol was involved.

To her disappointment Mort did not make that move she deeply anticipated. His kisses even began to lesson as her passion for him grew stronger. Her feelings for him were so intense she thought it better to take it upon herself to take their relationship to the next level. Mort broke from her embrace backing away from her as if he were just going to go back to typing on his computer. He seemed tense.

"Is everything alright?" she asked concerned. Little did she know of the heartache Mort just suffered almost a year ago. Finding his wife in bed with another man had such a dramatic effect on him he never thought he'd be able to write another story again. That was until he found new inspiration in a young woman.

Even though he would never admit to Christine of the affection he had for another he found her so irresistible he was willing to forget about his infidelity. Not being able to be close to her made him feel miserable. It was like kissing Christine was making his love for her a lie. Of course the girl he had feelings for was Nina. It wasn't until the night he discovered Jess and Nina together that he realized that she was more to him then just a girl he buys coffee from.

"Everything's fine." he said walking back over to her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. As they kissed they slowly moved towards the bedroom. Finally Christine will have everything she was so eager to fulfill. As Mort laid her down on the bed she pulled on his clothes bringing him down over top of her. Mort couldn't get out of his head how attractive Christine is and the fear that she would suspect his interest in Nina.

Hours later Christine was sound asleep beside him. Mort lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He thought of Nina and how it made him feel so exultant to know that every time he mentioned Christine she always seemed to get slight jealousy. It soon became the only real reason why he was with Christine. If only he knew what was to come. That in the end Nina would chose to be with Jess. Nina also had a significant other that made Mort feel the way Nina felt when he talked about Christine. With all the sexual tension being built up inside him he needed a release.

He was trapped in a relationship while longing for another. At the same time he found Christine incredibly breathtaking and sexy. He knew by the way she acted today that he was loosing her. Mort was unbelievably selfish to think if he lost Christine he wouldn't have a chance with Nina. There was no way a sweet and beautiful like Nina would ever fall for Mort.

"Hey." Christine said roughly as she woke up. She rolled over to Mort placing her head on his shoulder. "I think it would be so nice to live here."

Mort was silent. What did she mean by that? It was completely random yet Mort thought as if he should have expecting Christine to want to push their relationship even further. She was always the one to make the first move. And like the driven career women she was she was always in control.

"Oh you don't want to live here it's nothing, but a broken old cabin . . . wouldn't you be happier in a mansion somewhere?" As soon as the words left his mouth he immediately knew he said the wrong thing. She sat up on the bed her face completely upset and offended.

"Is that what you think of me Mort?" she asked. "You think of me as some spoiled rich girl?"

"No—of course not." Mort quickly replied. "I was just joking that's all." But telling her it was joke only made her even more upset with him. She got up off the bed with the sheets wrapped around her naked body.

"Well it sure sounds like that's what you think of me . . . I mean you don't even appreciate me the way you used to. I had to practically force you off the computer to even acknowledge that I was here." As hard as it was to believe she was right. He should have never mistaken her for a fool. This was his chance to think of something genuine to say.

"I'm sorry but ever since I met you . . . I never felt so inspired before in my life. You mean everything to me." he said. Christine's expressions went from angry to affectionate in one swift moment. As they hugged Mort whispered into her ear that he would be honored if she'd move in with him. Frankly he was terrified of her moving in, but he couldn't let her go just yet.

Even now as he sat in his car on the way to the airport he thought of that moment when he wished he just kept his mouth shut the second she complimented his house. It wasn't surprising that she took his humor offensively. They hardly went a day without getting into a quarrel over the simplest of things. But for the first time in almost a year Mort bought a pack of cigarettes. It sat in the empty passenger seat next to him as he waited at the stop light.

He had them ever since he left the gas station not far from his house. Every once and awhile he'd glance at them, but quickly turn away telling himself he didn't need them. When he did the same tragedy that drove him to buy the cigarettes made the idea of consuming the toxic substance even more appetizing. Mort never touched them.

As soon as the light turned green Mort stepped on the gas and headed further down the road. About a half hour ago he turned off the highway onto a road he knew would only take him forty- five minutes to get to the airport instead of the original two hours. Once again he glanced down at the pack of cigarettes and quickly turned his attention back the road. They seemed to be tempting him with every desire he once had for cigarettes.

The way the air filled with smoke as he took in the addicting aroma. He used to sit at his computer and smoke as he typed the best he had ever wrote. He tried everything from a pencil to a straw to replace the feeling of holding something in his hand during his thought process of his writing. Not to mention the taste of smoke filling his lungs. That bitter taste of tobacco and its essence. He flirted with the thirst of alcohol, but he'll always remember how he ached for a cigarette.

For they've always been there through the rough and the good times. They were there when Amy had her first miscarriage. Hell, they were even there helping him through divorce. After many years of trying to quit as Amy told him repeatedly he would drive himself to an early death. Although death never depressed Mort, he couldn't help but quit for the hope of one day to witness his child being born. It never happened and cigarettes became the only thing he could trust. Why would he ever want to quit?

Mort pulled the car over to the side of the road. He sat there letting himself decide for a few minutes if he should. As he glanced down at the pack of cigarettes they seemed to be looking at him with a longing for him to smoke the shit out of one of them. It was then he realized that he needed them again. He couldn't live any longer with a broken heart and the sooner he drives himself to death the better. With that he grabbed the pack of cigarettes and pulled on the top of the box until it opened, but suddenly stopped himself.

Imagining the many delectable white deaths that was just a rip away he couldn't help, but wonder if this was truly what he wanted. Nina had confronted him with the reason of his affair was to break up a marriage that was prefect and he jumped at the chance to fuck that up. Mort knew this wasn't in any way the entire truth. If only she knew the reason he felt so incline to cheat in the first place she would not have said such a thing. Yet Mort couldn't escape the feeling of regret. Taking a cigarette would only bring him back to the same cycle he'd been running for more then ten years.

Mort turned back onto the road tossing the pack of cigarettes out the window. In his rear-a-view- mirror he could see them hitting the ground on the side of the road. Mort kept driving forward smiling to himself of what he was able to overcome. He no longer gave into the temptation. He was a free man. Free to drive the streets and not have a secret desire to smoke a cigarette. His had them so many times over the years to practically guarantee his lungs were slowly rotting away enough without their help.

As he continued down the road he took one more glimpse in his rear-a-view-mirror. The pack of cigarettes turned into another insignificant memory in his mind. The road ahead of him was long--very long. About forty minutes before he would reach the airport. Part of him wanted to turn the car around and go back for the cigarettes. That part of him felt as if he dumped his best friend on the side of the road. Suddenly he began to feel less vindicated and more trapped.

But Mort wasn't going to break--no. _I'm not turning back, _he thought to himself as he pressed down harder on the gas peddle. The moved faster as he continued forward down the road. But that part of him that wanted them screamed in his mind to turn back. The last thing he could needed was another reason to turn around. The thoughts of Nina and Jess haunted his mind. Why should have give up something if she doesn't do the same for him?

All she did was pry her nose into his business and give him brainless advice about what she thought was the right thing to do. At the same time she was the one messing around with Jess behind his back. And Mort was the one hating himself for showing up at her doorstep that night. Not to mention the news he had to break to Christine. The remorse ate him up inside.

_Fuck them, _he thought as he made a hard U-turn. He pressed down as hard as he could on the gas until he could see the pack of cigarettes in sight. He slowed to a stop on the side of the road a few feet away from the cigarettes. Mort quickly got out of his car. He walked over the pack of cigarettes and sat down. With a rapid force he opened the box and pulled out one single white cigarette. Setting the box down beside him he lite up the cigarette. By the side of the deserted road he smoked.

Inhaling the dry smoke into his mouth then slowly exhaling it relaxed him. He finally just released himself from the reality of the situation and just relaxed. After twenty minutes or so he was done with the entire cigarette. He stood up and tossed the cigarette butt on the ground. With the tip of his shoe he crushed against the pavement. Placing the rest of the cigarettes into his pocket her opened the car door and got in.

"Mort!" Christine called as she jumped up from her seat. She immediately ran over to him and greeted him with an immense embrace. For a long while her arms were wrapped around his neck. She seemed not to want to let go. As he held her in his arms his mind was elsewhere. The memory of Marta's heavy breathing against his neck as he penetrated her on the bathroom counter flashed through his mind like a bad dream.

"We're you smoking?" asked still hugging him.

"No . . . must be secondhand smoke." Mort replied. He wasn't sure if she fell for it or not. He couldn't see her face yet he could tell by her silence she didn't believe him.

"I got you something." she said slowly pulling away. She knelt down on the floor and opened her Prada suitcase. When she stood back up to face Mort she was holding in her hands a brown paper bag. She pulled out a square figure wrapped in bubble wrap and handed it to Mort. Mort took the present from her and held it in his hands for a moment.

"Well . . . aren't you going to open it?" she asked anxiously awaiting his reaction. Mort slowly unwrapped the bubble wrap around the unknown object. As he unwrapped it he began to notice its familiar and significant purpose. Before it even half way unwrapped a smile appeared across Mort's face. Christine smiled simply because she knew from his expression she did something right. Mort continued the unwrapped the present letting the bubble wrap fall to the floor when he was done.

Mort looked down at his hands admiring the book he held in his hands. He was ecstatic by the sight of the novel he's been so eagerly waiting for. The novel in which he held in his hands was by a new German novelist and writer named Edward Eaton. Mort read a previous novel by the author called, In the Dead of the Night. Mort was hooked. A sequel to the book was expected to come out until few months from now, but here it was sitting in his hands.

"What you think?" she asked hoping he would verbally praise her for her efforts. "It's the first published copy of Edward Eaton's Evening Rising."

"I love it!" Mort replied thanking Christine with a hug. Christine couldn't stop smiling. She loved seeing him happy. She jumped at the chance to make him happy when one of her friends (who is also a book editor) told her he was working on the new Edward Eaton novel. And as a favor he snagged the first published copy for Christine with no other cost then an IOU. It was months before the book was set to be released into bookstores around the world. But it was worth the rush.

Mort carried her luggage as they exited the terminal. Christine held to Mort's hand as they passed through the crowd. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the airport. He moved so swiftly though the throng of people that Christine had trouble keeping up. She didn't resist him she only followed him. By the time she mustered the courage to tell him to slow down they reached the doors.

Mort down and released her hand. They walked at a comfortable pace to the car. She could still smell the smoke on his clothes--she hated that smell. As much as she loved Mort and believed he would never lie to her she couldn't help, but wonder if he was in fact lying to her. And she wondered exactly why he was lying about something that was so obvious. It wasn't like Mort to lie to her like this especially about something so sickening.

When they neared the car Mort pushed the button on the keys to unlock it. As Christine climbed into the passenger seat, Mort placed her belongings into the back of the car. He slammed the back door shut and got into the driver's seat. Christine was fixing her make-up when he started the car. She quickly put it away as he began to back out of the parking lot. In a few short they reached the highway. It was so quiet in the car they only thing they could hear was the sound of the car on the road.

Mort stared straight ahead. He was so ashamed of himself he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Christine bought him a gift she knew would please him. It proved that she cared a great deal for Mort. And all he did was lie to her. Not ten minutes ago he lied about smoking. He never meant to be dishonest. The guilt inside him made him answer no before his mind could catch it with his mouth. He regretted not telling her the truth about smoking, but he could tell by her tone of voice she wasn't happy with the idea.

Still Mort kept quiet. How was he to break the news to her now that she bought him such an extravagant gift? Nevertheless he knew he had to tell her. The guilt would only build up inside him and he would never be rid of it. It wasn't fair to Christine. She deserved someone who would spoil her with lavish gifts, someone loyal and trustworthy. All Mort needed now was the courage to break up with her.

He figured the best place would be at his house. Yes. As soon as they arrived at the house he would tell her. Although she would probably be very upset with him and he would risk getting psychically injured. Just about anywhere would make her upset. Maybe over dinner he would talk to her rationally and break up with her calmly. She wouldn't draw attention to the situation that way. It would give her some time to think it over and possibly be less angry with him by the time they drove home.

"We should go out tonight to celebrate." Christine suggested as well as breaking the silence.

"Okay." Mort agreed.

"Can we go back to your place first, I would like to shower first?" she asked.

"Sure." Mort said. He could only manage to get one word each time she spoke to him after that. It was then he wondered when the courage to tell her was going to come.

They arrived at the house an hour later and still unable to strike up a conversation that Mort spoke more then just one word at a time. Christine was completely unaware of his feelings of resentment. The resentment he felt towards Nina for falling into the same trap he tried so long to pull her out of. He felt fury for Jess who was ungrateful to have the love from someone as beautiful as Nina. But most of all he had hatred towards himself for sleeping with another woman while Christine preparing the most incredible gift for him.

As they made their way onto the porch Mort thought of exactly what he would be risking telling Christine about Marta. He wasn't sure he wanted to be with Marta. Marta didn't seem to have any plans to break up with her husband. Even though it was eating Mort up inside that he was deceitful he couldn't tell Christine. He could only expect the worst if he went through with the situation. Nonetheless he would have to live with the fact that he cheated.

Mort handed Christine the keys and she unlocked the front door. Mort followed her inside when she opened the door. She placed the keys on the coffee table then took off her designer jacket. Mort placed her luggage near the door. They stood in silence for a moment just glancing at different objects around the room. Just then another unwanted memory flashed through his head of Marta and Mort making out under the threshold of the door the same afternoon they made love in the bathroom of a restaurant he swore never to enter.

"Okay, well I'll just go take that shower now." Christine said after a long awkward silence. Mort quickly glanced up at her face. She was smiling at him even though he did nothing to make her smile at. _I can't even breath a word to her for Christ sake. _

Mort watched as she climbed up the stairs and disappeared into the bedroom. When he heard the door shut he immediately walked over to the couch. He grabbed his hair and pulled it tightly between his fingers. For a moment he thought he was going to pull all strands of hair from of his head. Mort paced back and forth in the space between the coffee table and couch. The guilt would drive him made if he didn't find a way to confine it.

He couldn't get the thoughts of Marta's beautiful wet cunt out of his mind. And the aching sensation he felt between his legs when they were together. The thought of how Marta loved it when he did it to her hard his lustful appetite for her peaked at such a high rate he'd do anything to inside her again. He only passionate yet sinful remembrances of her. At the same time he loathed himself for it. He would never be able to live with himself if he kept these thoughts in his mind.

Suddenly he felt as if her were on a abnormally fast marry-go-round and everything was spiraling out of control. Mort sat down on the couch hoping to keep his head from spinning. An awful dizziness made his stomach woozy. He lay his head down on one of the throw pillows and made himself comfortable on the couch. Closing his eyes he hoped the nauseous feeling would go away.

"Mort!" he heard Christine call. "Mort!"

Mort opened his eyes and sat up on the couch. Christine was standing at the top of the stair with nothing covering her expect a large white towel.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to step in the shower." she said. Mort knew he didn't exactly smell the best so he decided to take a shower. Besides the fact the last one he had taken was in Marta's grand bathroom at her beachouse. Mort stood up and walked over to the stairs. He kept eye contact with Christine as he walked up the stairs. When he reached the top she reached her hand out and stroked his cheek. Mort reached up and touched her hand softly.

She pulled her hand away smiling as if nothing was wrong. Mort couldn't return the smile. He only stared down at his feet as he entered the bedroom. He entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. Christine had entered the room and started brushing her hair in front of the mirror over his dresser. Mort undressed beside the bed. Christine could see his naked body in the reflection of the mirror. She continued the brush her hair acting as if she didn't notice his well hung body.

She continued to watch him as he walked into the bathroom shutting the door behind him. She stopped brushing her hair and moved onto clothes. She needed to look her best when Mort got of the shower so she slide on her new jade green V-neck Vera Wang dress. She needed to do her make-up to complete the look. She sat on the bed gathering everything she needed when something caught her eye.

Mort dumped clothes on the bed and left them there. _What a slop, _she thought as she walked around to the other side of the bed. She could still hear the water from the shower running so she decided to pick up after Mort. She picked up the shirt and held it out in front of her. She didn't recognize the shirt when he picked her up and she certainly didn't recognize it now. It must be new. Perhaps he bought it while she was away. That was the only possibility since she was gone for three days. On the other hand Mort rarely went out shopping for food let alone for clothes.

As suspicious as it was she ignored her thoughts about the shirt. Just then she noticed an unusually large and very unknown lump in the pocket of his pants. She tossed the shirt back on the bed and brought the pants closer towards her. She raised the pants up and shook them letting everything in the pockets to fall onto the bed. She was shocked at what she saw escape from the pockets; a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. She was suddenly overcome with furiousness. Her first instinct was to run into the bathroom and scream at Mort for lying to her. It wasn't like Mort to lie.

Perhaps she didn't know Mort as well as she thought she did. But if he was in fact struggling with such a life threatening addiction she needed to be more sensitive and supportive than aggravated. Christine thought of the night when they were together in this very bedroom when Mort said he needed to tell her something and again when they were on the phone while she was busy getting drunk at her surprise promotion party. She felt so contrite her eyes started to water. How could she have been so selfish not to let him tell her something so important?

She wiped off the salty tears from her eyes with her fingers. She decided she wouldn't confront Mort about the cigarettes. Instead she would wait until he thought it was the right time to tell her. And the next the opportunity presented itself when he built up the courage to tell her she would listen. She stuffed the cigarettes back into the pocket of the pants.

After she composer herself enough to stop the tears she walked back over to her make-up bag. As she was laying the foundation on her face she spotted something else on the bed. She put down the make-up and walked around to the other side of the bed. She searched the bed for the small shinny object she thought she seen. Suddenly she found it; a pearl drop earring with gold and diamond accents.

The earring looked very expensive and elegant that made Christine's heart melt. It certainly wasn't any earring Christine owned and she owned some costly earring, but nothing like this. The earring was so extraordinary it didn't look like something one would wear regularly. Its purpose was much more sophisticated then that.

The question Christine kept asking herself was how Mort came to be in possession of something so stunning? Did it fall out onto the bed along with the cigarettes or was already there? And lastly, whose earring was it?

Christine didn't know what to do. Should she ask Mort about it or should she just ignore it? But she didn't need anymore evidence. Mort wasn't as faithful to her as she thought. He didn't sound thrilled by the news of her promotion on the phone and it seemed like everyone, but Mort was celebrating. Every time she tried to call him after that he never answered. Then again today on the drive home he seemed less then thrilled to have her home and he barely spoke a word to her.

Was it possible that he was somewhere else with someone else?

But who? Christine pondered the question for a short while before she realized she already knew. _Nina. _Yes it must have been Nina. She was the only women Mort ever talked about. And he was always driving to Starbucks every day sometimes twice a day. _No one likes coffee** that** much, _Christine thought holding back her tears. Christine had to consider the fact that she was so much younger than Mort. What could they possibly have in common?

But Christine knew better. Man left their wives and girlfriends everyday for someone hotter and younger. And they didn't need to have something in common if the man's intentions were more than intellectual and more sexual. Never in a million years would Nina be able to afford the earrings Christine held up in front of her. Just like that possibility of Mort sleeping with Nina put a knife through Christine's heart.


End file.
